Foreshadowing Demise
by Shadowmistress13
Summary: Sirius never stopped to think that his brother may not have joined the Death Eaters of his own free will. Or just how thorough a tragedy his death was. Oh the secrets a diary reveals and the unique opportunities a deadly veil offers.
1. Through the Veil

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, it belongs to J.K. Rowling.

He was fighting, he was winning, and then…Bella's spell hit him and he was falling. He heard Harry's scream, saw Bella's sneering grin, and felt the veil pass over him. He had lost. He had died. He felt a smile twisting his lips and couldn't help but laugh.

His life and all his familiarity had been snuffed out like some common candle-and now the world was grey, completely grey. It felt like an eternity passed as he fell deeper and deeper into an unending abyss of grey.

But if this was death then, why was he still falling? Unless…panic seized him, would he continue to fall until he reached….? No, he was a member of the Order of the Phoenix-a protector of innocents-a-a good guy. Perhaps not the nicest bloke to everyone but essentially good-he didn't deserve-

THUD! Sirius groaned who knew Hell would have such a bloody hard floor. For a moment he was just still-waiting for some sort of clue or revelation. Because after you die you're supposed to be "enlightened" and all that rubbish, right?

He certainly didn't feel any wiser-he only felt like he'd been flattened by a troll. And wait, what was that? Water sprinkling his face? Where were the flames? And the screams of writhing tormented souls? And the overdramatic sinister laughter that his frigid mother had warned him of? After all, she was the one who declared that this was where he'd retire when his vile sorry life had ended. Well, it wasn't at all reminiscent of her ghoulish descriptions.

It was overall fairly ordinary-completely silent save the pattering of rain and a low whooshing of wind. His eyes began to focus. Everything was still grey but it seemed to be the result of an overcast day. He slowly moved his head and noticed looming grey structures. Buildings? Shops! Shops he actually knew. Shops in…he jerked into a sitting position. Knockturn Alley!

He contemplated it. Well, it was slightly fitting. He supposed Knockturn Alley could be likened as a Hell. Maybe this was his own personal Hell. Fate knew he had enough bad memories take place here. Perhaps that's what the punishment would be: he'd have to experience his worst memories over and over for all eternity.

He painfully stood and stretched, pushing his slowly dampening hair out of his eyes. Fine then, he'd endure this. What was the worst that could happen? Feeling defiant he let a grin wash over his features; he stuck his hands in his pockets and began strolling down the alley. He soon took to whistling as obnoxiously as possible.

He glanced half-heartedly at the windows brimming with pickled monstrosities and assuredly cursed mementos; mirrors that guaranteed to snare and trap your enemies, hexed jewelry, black candles for a bargain price. He glanced at a display of torture devices and scoffed: yes that was how civilized Purebloods amused themselves.

For a moment he was filled with an inexplicable need to destroy the window with that display. He wanted to shatter it. But…this was a memory, so it meant that there was nothing he could do-and there was nothing he couldn't do. His fist slowly unclenched within his pockets.

He might not have any power over changing the past, but he could certainly indulge in some amusing commentary this time. He could tell his parents exactly what he thought, right in their face for once. He could insult Bella all he wanted. He could-could. He sighed. Eternity was a long time, and even that glorious past time would eventually grow tiresome.

He faintly became aware of frantic footsteps racing closer. He lazily glanced up at the nearing corner. Soon the owner of that stride would bound into view. It was probably a younger version of himself partaking in some competition that would soon result in a very humiliating, very public scolding.

His eyes lowered, it was hardly worth paying attention to at all. He'd have plenty of time to acquaint himself with each memory. And it's not like he had to worry about injury-the whole scene would probably treat him like some intangible phantom.

The footsteps grew louder, echoing in the emptiness of the street. The sound of panting was also becoming distinct. It sounded male but Sirius couldn't really be sure. Not that it really mattered.

He himself was now approaching the corner. A few more seconds and he'd know the identity of the mysterious runner. If he'd just lift his gaze off the grey cobblestone road and look. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the trial. He risked a glance just in time to see the shine of wet black hair barreling at him. He landed hard as the figure slammed into him.

Apparently, this idiot had sprinted around the corner without bothering to look and promptly smacked right into him. So much for being free of entanglement or external pain.

For the second time, Sirius found himself lying flat on his back in Knockturn Alley. It was just about pleasant as the first.

He gritted his teeth more than ready to curse the sod to oblivion. But a stream of soft curses was already being uttered-and with such fluidity that he felt a little admiration.

Sirius glanced at the unwanted weight sprawled across his front. While it proved that his previous theories of death and damnation were unfounded. It left him with another conundrum. Was the veil really a portkey of some kind?

The form atop of him appeared to be a boy with dark black hair. He wasn't very heavy, but this was more than a little awkward.

"Oi, kid" he prodded the thin shoulder. "You mind getting off?" he asked with a wry grin.

Because if this was just a matter of teleportation, than it wasn't too late. He could apparate himself back to the Ministry and rejoin the battle. He could make sure Harry was alright. Who knew how the kid was taking his absence? He was the Godfather it was his job, his privilege to look after Prongs' son. And he had to get back there and quick.

He tapped the thin boy again, a little more impatiently, "I have somewhere urgent to-"

The boy sluggishly lifted himself, his wet hair sliding across his face. He spluttered for a moment before roughly brushing the offending strands aside.

Sirius gasped, his heart plummeting at the sight before him. All other thoughts and schemes escaped him as he took in the figure before him. Helplessly, he stared into a pair of identical silver eyes. _Regulus. _

TBC


	2. The Mysterious Regulus Black

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, it belongs to J.K. Rowling.

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For a moment the boy stared right back at him, his eyes unfocused. Then seeming to gather his wits, he sprang off the older man mortified. He staggered to his feet swaying slightly, his white face becoming tinged with pink.

"I-I am very sorry sir. I apologize for my thoughtlessness. I just-well I was-"

Sirius remained mute his eyes still rooted to the other. At another time, a lifetime ago, he may have found this hilarious. A flustered Regulus was a rare sight to see, but now…

Flashes of memory passed through Sirius' mind.

_A brother, a friend, a fellow little prankster who used to idolize him, toy broomsticks, stupid arguments, stolen cookies, different opinions, different houses, more arguments, falling out, disdain, emptiness, a desperate look in his eyes-asking for him to understand. He didn't, turned him away, and walked away. That was the last time he saw him. A letter, a funeral he didn't attend, a gravestone with a date that was far too early, a portrait, and nameplate hanging on a room he could hardly bare to enter…and…_

His hand reached into his pocket and clasped the object that hid there.

So it was here too. Who knew objects could travel through time and death? Though he supposed he should be thankful, that same principle was probably what allowed his clothes to travel as well. It was one thing to fall into Knockturn alley, it was quite another to land there naked.

But enough digression, his fingers clenched the small book hidden in his pocket. A small black book trimmed in silver. Reggie's book or rather Reggie's journal, one he'd had since childhood. He'd found it by chance.

For some months prior to his…death, certain house guests were determined to change Grimmauld as much as possible. Mrs. Weasley, a rather nosy woman, had wanted to barge into Reggie's room and dismantle it. She insisted that such a room could be used as another guest room or a filing room or something practical for the Order. It made sense, and the others agreed. But he didn't want anyone in there. He denied them, saying that Regulus' room was booby trapped, which it was-but only the closet-or so he thought. That had silenced everyone, after all Regulus was the Death Eater-who knew what sort of Dark Arts hexes he'd conjured. Though if Sirius had to guess on it, he'd wager that the spells were probably more scare-tactics than anything else. Regulus wasn't Bellatrix.

After that discussion, he hadn't thought much of it. He believed he'd clearly marked his brother's room as safely off limits…until he'd found her in it one afternoon; haphazardly emptying his brother's dresser into sagging cardboard boxes. She didn't notice Sirius creep up, just continued flinging his brother's things in armfuls-dumping them carelessly, as if they didn't mean anything-like their owner didn't matter. He's not exactly sure what he said that day, but he's sure there were quite a few swears uttered. He remembered Molly Weasley's face going white, going red, and then going white again as she gave up the argument and fled like a frightened mouse. Leaving Sirius standing in his brother's room, with everything in disarray; for a moment, Sirius glanced around the room in devastation.

The Slytherin banners set in an attempt to challenge Sirius in his rebellious teenage years had been taken down and set in a corner along with the bed covers and sheets. Pictures were down from their respected spots in a pile on the stripped bed. And Reggie's broom lay tossed on the floor by the closet door.

Sirius immediately started toward it, his brother would be mortally offended by such a sight. Reggie loved Quidditch. Sirius' hand enclosed around the broom, and life crashed over him. What did it matter? This room would never be used again. It wasn't like Reggie was coming back. And why should that matter, he was a little monster. A Slytherin. A death eater: evil and corrupt through and through. Spewing nonsense about Pure Blood supremacy and genocide. Nothing here worth remembering. No one worth protecting. Or mourning.

He should let Molly empty it. Get rid of it all-every piece. He kept hold of the broom, much too small for him but perfect for Reggie. Who was small-always had been-would always be the Little brother. He set the broom carefully on the bed and began straightening the room.

First, the pictures-filled with family members. It took most of his will power not to break the ones with Bellatrix and Narcissa. There were some with father and mother, a few with a couple of Slytherins he didn't recognize and…one of him and Reggie together. He held that one for a long time.

The significance overwhelming him. Sirius Black had been burned off the family tree, every portrait destroyed (save those in his room). Yet there it was. He opened the frame carefully, extracted the photo and glanced at the back. In a childish scrawl (one that would later become so formal and looping that Sirius wouldn't be able to read it anymore) was written:

_**Siri and Me **_

A few hours later, and Reggie's room was almost back to order. He'd managed to fill up the first two dresser drawers. It was taking a longer time, because he was forced to refold everything. He normally didn't bother with his own wardrobe-but these things were Reggie's and Reggie was always neat about these sort of matters. He had just pulled out an armful when something landed with a clack.

He glanced down and noticed a small black book. One that was awfully familiar. He set the clothes on the bed and reached for the book. He opened it. Empty. Something between relief and disappointment filled him. He glanced around the room before pulling out his wand.

He tapped it "Reveal! Obscuris Liftus!" Nothing "Toujours Pur" He waited and was shocked when nothing occurred. He then whispered "Slytherin is the best…Sirius is a prat…Gryffindorks." He sighed. Nothing came to mind.

What sort of password would Reggie use? Probably something so simple you'd overlook it. Or something so incongruous with his character you'd never guess it. Reggie was clever like that. Maybe he was like Dumbledore and had used a sweet, "Bertie Botts, Droobles, cockroach clusters, cookies, cake, parfait…" he thought hard of all the parties he'd attended "moose, sundaes, marble, vanilla wine cream puffs, cheesecake, apple cinnamon sticks, jello" he was running out, he sighed "Pretzels."

He looked down in defeat:

_**Dear Diary,**_

_**Siri gave you to me cause its my birthday and he says if i want to be a good story maker I should write my stories down. Says my thoughts are interesting. Don't know bout that. Bella snorted when he said it. But Bella isn't very nice. Siri doesn't like her. I don't really either. But she's family. I wish she didn't pick on me cause that makes Siri mad, I think that's why she does it though. Mummy gets really mad when they fight, cause your not sposed to hit girls. I told her once that it ok cause Bella wasn't really a girl, girls don't laugh like monsters. I got sent to bed without supper but Siri snuck me some…**_

"Sir? Sir? Are you alright? I hope I didn't addle your brains with that fall. Sir?!"

Sirius glanced at the boy his mouth going slack. What could he possibly say to this person, who he'd left in anger decades ago? To this ghost, this memory, this Reggie. Maybe this was Hell after all.

"Mister!" the boy gave his shoulder a shove. "You alright?"

His throat had dried up, before this specter. He gave a dumb nod and the boy looked skeptical.

Sirius slowly straightened and groaned; it'd figure he'd land right in a puddle.

The boy noticed and flushed, "I'm sorry, if you want I can have your robes cleaned. I've good standing with Madam Malkin's shop. We could travel there and-"

"S'fine" Sirius muttered glancing at the boy. The boy fidgeted a bit under the piercing gaze.

"What were you running from?" Sirius asked, his heart hammering in his chest-his mind trying to make sense of it all.

The boy's eyebrows arched in surprise. "I'm not running from anything" the boy snapped defensively.

Sirius felt a slight smile quirk his lips.

The boy shrugged a shoulder, "I was hurrying there's a difference."

"Of course."

"What of you? Skulking about in weather like this?"

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, "And your behavior is any different?"

"_I'm_ a Black. I can go anywhere I wish. My family is-"

"You want a drink" flew from the elder Black's lips before he could stop himself. What a strange comment from a complete stranger? Kid would probably think he was some creep. After all you don't just waltz up to someone and-

The boy glanced at him suspiciously, sizing him up before saying, "Alright. Sounds good. Leaky Cauldron right?"

Sirius gaped at the kid and then muttered a quiet "Yeah."

One awkward walk later, where Sirius kept darting glancing at the figure from his past-and Regulus was pointedly ignoring him-they arrived. For a moment the boy stood before the window, staring nonplussed at a poster of Kissing Cupids, a caption reading '_looking for that special someone who'll make your magic spark? Come and set an interview with the capable Love Potion Committee No. 9. We'll set you with a love that will last a lifetime.'_

Regulus let out a groan of exasperation, "really now that's all a farce. You know they're just enchanting people for a date or two. It's funny how the ministry thinks that's all in good fun and the Imperious Curse is shameful."

He turned to Sirius "If nothing else you think they'd have some stipulations about false advertising."

They entered the pub and sat at a small table, where Tom quickly greeted them.

"Coffee."

"Tea and a bagel, please"

The bald innkeeper sped off to fulfill their orders.

Regulus drummed his fingers on the table while glancing around the pub. He noted several pink streamers hanging awkwardly through out the room. He sighed in exasperation. He fidgeted a moment, taking a glance at the elder man-a man who looked so frightfully familiar that it was driving him mad. In fact it was the man's eerie familiarity that had led him to agree to this drink. Before he knew what was happening, he was babbling.

"Stupid holiday drives everyone bonkers; you should see what those Marauders have done. It's not even the 14th yet and they've messed with the Great Hall. The bloody ceiling keeps pouring these hard muggle candies. They're shaped like hearts, taste like chalk, and have stupid messages. B mine and all that rubbish."

Yes, back at Hogwarts there were candy hearts falling from the ceiling which Regulus found rather unpleasant as he'd already had one land in his eye twice.

Something began to gnaw at Sirius. It was February. And Regulus was here…in Knockturn Alley. It was _February_.

Tom returned and set their items down. Regulus thanked him with a cold courtesy, inspired by years of their family's stiff rules.

"It's February" Sirius stated flatly.

"It is. The 12th actually."

"Year?"

At this Regulus raised an incredulous eyebrow but answered nonetheless "1976, what did you think it was? You been spending the last two months sodding drunk?"

!976. 1976! He was…in the past?! That blasted veil had chucked him into the past. Then…here…Lily and James were still alive! The tragedy in Godric's Hollow had not yet come! That lousy, no-good, evil, filthy rat could still be dealt with. With his knowledge he could right everything! Everything!

"Sir, do you have some sort of condition I should be aware of?" came a dry cold voice.

Sirius refocused his gaze on his younger brother. Reggie, he thought, Reggie there's even hope for you. Fourteen, if it was 1976, than Reggie was just fourteen years old-his birthday wasn't for a few more months. And even then, it was still a whole year before he joined Voldemort's ranks.

"Sir?" the boy waved a hand over the elder Black's face.

Wait a minute, if he was still a student then why was here. "Why aren't you in school?"

"Does it really matter?"

"Yeah it does."

"I was visiting my Mother."

"Why?"

Regulus arched an eyebrow, "Oh I don't know. Perhaps my family inspired some intrinsic loyalty within me. Are you another School Governor in disguise? I believe I already sent a letter explaining my reasons."

"No, I'm not a School Governor. I'm not from Hogwarts"

Regulus' eyes narrowed, "I never said I went there."

For a moment there was panic, and then he smoothly replied, "Who wouldn't know the Black Family and its whereabouts?"

Regulus gave a wry smile, "Are we under accusation again? I swear if your ministry brings us to trial one more time on false testimony and artificial evidence, I'm filing harassment, sir."

Sirius then watched in surprise as Regulus crammed the bagel into his mouth without seemingly tasting it. Their parents would have been in horror at that breach of manners.

"Thank you for the breakfast. I'll be on my way."

"I'm not with the ministry," Sirius assured. "You're safe with me."

The boy froze and scrutinized him "And just…just why should I believe you?"

"Trust me"

"Then what side?" He demanded softly, his shoulders tensing.

"What?"

"What branch?"

"I'm not-"

"Lies. I'd know those eyes anywhere. They're a recurring family trait."

Sirius sighed racking his brain for a clever answer; Regulus was always a crafty one.

"A shady one," his connection to the Blacks lay in scorched darkness. These inferences were passable after all, since his exile he wasn't _**legitimate **_family anymore.

Regulus gave a nod and sat back down; illegitimacy was a flaw that occurred with disappointing frequency in all old families. "How close?"

At this Sirius glanced at him, Regulus held his gaze with stony grey irises.

"Leagues apart"

Regulus nodded again, but this time his shoulders eased.

"Did you always know of your relation or is this a recent discovery?"

Sirius gave a wry smile, "Oh I always knew, but I was desperate to deny it."

Again Regulus' eyebrows arched in surprise, "We're the most ancient and noble house, why wouldn't you want connection with it?"

Sirius shrugged, "never appealed to me."

"Until now" the boy bit out and already he was tensing up again.

God, Sirius thought, that boy was wound up far too tight. He decided that maybe a bit of truth would diffuse the situation.

"You look my younger brother. He…he died years back and seeing you-"

"-was like seeing a ghost" the boy offered. Yes, he knew that feeling. This man looked awfully similar to…

"Exactly" Sirius smiled grimly.

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Sirius paid the tab, despite the younger Black's insistence that he could take it. The two then reentered Diagon Alley.

'_You're safe with me.'_ That phrase disturbed Regulus. It was something-something Sirius used to tell him whenever they were mischief-making or he was scared. He stole another glance at the man.

"Anything you're looking for particularly?" the boy drawled.

"Actually, a two-way mirror" he wasn't sure how powerful those objects were, they probably couldn't break through time but…maybe he could tweak one a bit…if there was even the slightest chance he could contact Harry…

Regulus nodded agreeably, "Yes, those are dreadfully useful objects."

"How about you?"

The younger Black shrugged, "Probably look at some broomsticks or something."

A few hours passed as they traipsed about in an awkward companionship, swapping questions that could be answered in monosyllabic words.

Sirius didn't know why his kid brother kept hanging about. It was obvious that he didn't want to be around him. And yet, he persisted in trying.

Eventually, the boy remarked that he had to get home. Sirius offered to escort him. The boy could have easily turned him away, but he nodded and the two set off.

Grimmauld Place looked just as uninviting as ever.

"Would you like to stay for lunch?"

His first reaction was hell no; he didn't want to enter that horrid house. But…the boy was being sincere.

He practically had to break his jaw in order to say "Yes please."

The stepped over the threshold and Sirius had to suppress a shiver. The house was exactly as he remembered; dark furnishings and tapestries and traces of green everywhere.

Regulus took their coats and set them on the rack before striding down the hallway.

"Kreacher!" he commanded and there was a pop "We've a guest, see to his needs. I need to go see Mother for a moment." With that the boy disappeared up a flight of stairs.

"Does the guest need Kreacher's aid?" the house elf inquired. Sirius felt his lip curling and he suppressed a violent need to kick the thing.

It led him to the dining room where he awkwardly waited for his brother to return.

Regulus entered the room unaccompanied and Sirius blinked in surprise. His old bat of a mum, always came down to entertain. Always. Tradition dictated it so.

Regulus offered a polite smile, "What would you prefer to eat?"

"Um," that was also unexpected. A guest didn't often get to choose their meal at their house "something hot. Maybe tomato soup?"

Regulus nodded, "Kreacher, you heard our guest. I'll have some too." With a bow, the house elf scurried to the kitchen.

"Why exactly are you at home?"

"You really don't deserve to know, but since you are…family-no matter how distant. I'll tell you this much. Certain events have transpired causing a shift in the familial roles. I am now Head of the Black House."

Sirius nodded slowly. That was right. 1976, that was the year Cygnus got incarcerated. Though for what exactly, he wasn't sure. He hadn't been home since 5th year and he didn't open any of the mail they sent him.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm not" Regulus said briskly, taking a drink from his goblet. "Hopefully I will be able to restore our family's values. And if he does get to return maybe…maybe he'll have his head on straight again."

They talked about meaningless things as they sipped their soups. Like the weather and certain bands. And throughout the meal, the beginnings of a crazy plan began to take root in Sirius' brain.

"What is it you do exactly?"

He had approximately fourteen hours to get everything in order.

"I'm part of a small firm. It works to remove magical instances from muggle texts. We're hoping for the Ministry to welcome us as another branch."

"Hmm."

It wouldn't be easy. But if he could somehow pull it off.

"Well I hope your business goes well" Regulus offered as he walked him to the door.

"Thanks."

"It might not mean anything to you. But…well…if you do face any troubles, you can call on me. I'll do my best to aid you as I may."

Sirius gave a startled look.

Regulus shrugged, "Family is family. If we don't watch out for one another who will?"

Sirius gave a hollow "thanks," and walked down the stone steps. He glanced back at the slight boy. His brother looked so small and pale standing alone at the door frame. But he was standing straight, with a grave regal sort of air. Like one too young, with a burden too great. Like a captain of a sinking ship.

Sirius gave a wave and was surprised when the boy returned it before heading back into the house.

Perhaps his "death" was a miracle in disguise. He could save Lily and James, give Harry a better life, help defeat Voldemort, and maybe…he could save Reggie too.

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This was quite possibly the stupidest idea he'd ever had-it was right up there with the almost killing Snape one.

He glanced at his reflection in a nearby puddle. Nervously, he ran a hand through his now short curly blonde hair. It had taken most of the day to gather the necessary items needed-from ingredients to wardrobe. It had taken all the galleons that he'd had in his pocket. Lupin had given him the money for emergency purposes, he'd be piping mad to learn that it went to fourth year school supplies.

But Sirius was pleased with his results; a fourteen year old boy was staring back at him with distinctly dark hazel eyes. Thank goodness, he was such a genius at spell-casting. Altering your appearance was tricky business.

He sped up his pace dragging his trunk behind him and walking through the middle divider with haste.

He glanced at the Hogwarts Express in all its glory and he could feel ghostly memories of better times.

There standing mere feet away from the train was his brother. He glanced about; again his dear old mum was absent. Odd.

He slowly approached his younger brother. This would be the ultimate test.

"Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude but I'm new and before I board this train-it's bound for Hogwarts correct?"

Regulus looked over the boy, "You weren't on the train before."

"No, I'm a very recent transfer. With the Dark Lord gaining power, Durmstrang seemed a dangerous place; so I'm finishing my last years with Hogwarts." He shrugged a shoulder "It seemed prudent."

Regulus was still for a moment, processing the information before nodding, "I can understand that. It's one thing to support a cause, quite another to be swept away by it, hmm?"

Sirius gave a solemn nod.

Regulus turned to face him and as etiquette dictated, he gave a short bow, offered a hand and announced, "My name is Black. Regulus Black, second son of Orion and Walburga Black of the prestigious House of Black. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

Sirius repeated the movements, "My name is Salem Rosting. Only child of Brutus and Matilda Rosting. Deceased. Half-Blood."

Regulus glanced at him, "I'm unfamiliar with your surname."

_Salem_ fidgeted. "My family isn't very well known. We were content living in the country away from it all. My parents were caught in a raid and they…well…"

"I understand" Regulus stated with a carefully constructed expression of well-measured compassion. "These are dangerous times, where no one is safe. Not even the purest of families. Come, I'll introduce you to the others."

It felt strange being led by Regulus. He was so used to Reggie being the tag-a-long.

They walked down four cars before Regulus stopped and sharply rapped a compartment three times. The door slid open several inches and a pair of murky brown eyes peered out, "Oi Reggie, we were wondering when you'd arrive. You stop to smell the roses?"

"You're hilarious, now open the door." Regulus deadpanned. "And don't call me Reggie."

They opened the door and the younger Black swept inside. Salem hesitated a moment, feeling that he was entering enemy territory. He caught sight of a group of boys around Reggie's age.

"Whoa whoa Black. Who's the baggage?" asked the boy who'd opened the door. He had a flat face with a pug-like expression. His dark hair was kept short and his structure was strong but lacked grace.

"Rostings. Half-blood. Transfer student from Durmstrang. I invited him."

"Transfer student huh? You runnin' from the big bad Dark Lord" sneered the same boy.

"Let him alone Rabs. You're hardly one to talk, as I seem to recall you having nightmares about him."

"Reg!"

"Rostings meet Rabastan Lestrange. He's brother to Rudolphus Lestrange, who married my first cousin Bellatrix. The one by the window is Cyrus Flint. The boy to the left is Terrance Wilkes. And that joker sitting on the floor like an imbecile is Barty Crouch. Lestrange is a brute and one of Slytherin's Quidditch Team beaters. Flint's the Captain of said team. Wilkes is alright. And Barty's insane. There are some more people in the next three compartments but they don't welcome newcomers even when they're in the best of moods. So it'd be best if you stayed here, if you want company."

The boy on the floor, Barty, began giggling before erupting in a singsong voice: "Saint Reggie the peacemaker. So calm, and cold and mellow. Disgustingly well-mannered fellow. I really can't stand-"

"Stuff it Barty" Flint snapped, his dark black eyes glinting. His tight dark curls bouncing manically as he jerked his head in the other boy's direction. "I'm not putting up with you for this train ride, if you're going to act up like that."

Barty just started giggling, his straw hair sliding across his face as he jerked about.

Salem felt his stomach flip, Barty Crouch Jr., the creep who'd murdered his own father, tried to kill kids, and was hopelessly devoted to Voldemort. Damn it, Reggie, why did you hang out with these guys?

Salem resolved himself for a rough ride and ruefully placed his trunk up into the storage unit.

Regulus attempted to do the same.

The boys' snickers turned to jeers on Regulus third try. Regulus scowled, life's never easy when you're short.

Salem began to move to help him, but was elbowed by Flint.

"God you're such a waif, Reg" Lestrange sneered from the sidelines.

"Well what you expect of the little prince?" Flint laughed. "Here your highness" and with an easy one handed push, Flint had the trunk up in the storage compartment.

Regulus shrugged indifferently, "Thank you humble Steward." And he went to sit next to Salem.

Flint scowled and an eruption of mean laughter sounded.

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Salem began thumping his head against the train wall in boredom. This had to have been one of the worst train rides of his life. How did Reggie put up with these jerks?

He glanced at his brother who was reading a book he'd procured from a pocket. Ahh, escaping reality.

Salem nudged Regulus' shoulder, "Is it any good?"

Regulus glanced at him bewildered until Salem indicated the book, "Er actually yes, not bad at all. It's a fictional account of the Bermuda Triangle Battle of 1578, you know since no one really knows what happened and-"

"BORING!" Lestrange boomed and reached over, ripping the book from Regulus' hands.

"Rabastan give it back."

Lestrange threw it to Flint, who tossed it to Barty, who chucked it back to Lestrange.

"Such rubbish, Reg. If your mum knew you were indulging in such nonsense, she'd have your hide. Yep, I'm going to do you a favor." With a free hand he began unbolting the window.

"Stop it" Regulus yelled, trying to wrestle the book out of the other's grip. Which was completely futile; Reggie was far too small.

"I guess this book's final location will be unknown, like the Bermuda Triangle. How suiting."

Sirius whipped out his wand, "give it back."

"Or what?" Lestrange tried to sneer but failed, looking rather nervous with a wand tip in his face.

"Or I rearrange your face-which I'm sure will probably be an improvement"

Flint tore the book away from Lestrange and tossed it back to Regulus-hitting him in the face. He glared at Salem, "Now put it away."

He didn't-instead he magicked two trunks down from the storage rack, grabbed Regulus by the arm and pulled him out of the compartment.

"Wha-what are you? Where are we going? Hey!"

Salem didn't stop until they neared the very end of the train. He flicked his wand, opening the door and levitating the trunks up into storage.

He then gave Regulus a push inside. The boy landed sprawled on a seat and quickly righted himself, glaring.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" the younger Black hissed.

"Doing you a big favor" Salem answered shortly. "Those guys are gits Regulus. Why do you put up with them?"

"It was just a book" Regulus mumbled "It's not that important."

"It's the principle of the thing!" Salem shouted. This was what always irritated him about Reggie. The boy couldn't stand up for himself-at all. He always let himself get pushed around-by Mother, Father, Bella, Cissa, Lucious…everyone! And he'd bet his life that's how he got suckered into the Death Eater ranks.

Regulus ran his fingers over the book, his eyes downcast. Very softly, he offered a "thanks."

And all of a sudden all that previous rage flooding his system just seconds ago vanished. Salem fidgeted a moment before giving a gruff, "It's alright."

They sat in awkward silence for a moment before Regulus stated, "You'll be in Gryffindor."

"What?"

"There are four houses in Hogwarts. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. You'll be in Gryffindor."

Salem stared at his brother for a moment. Where was the venom that normally dripped off every syllable of his houses's name?

Regulus looked up "That right there was brave and reckless. Those boys know a lot of curses Rostings. They could have really-"

"Call me Salem"

"What?"

"Rostings is far too stuffy"

"Why?"

"It just sounds too formal. I'm sure even you are occasionally ruffled by your mouthful of a first name"

Regulus flushed, shrugged then confessed, "Well…sometimes…but normally it's just when people mispronounce it."

"And how in the hell do they manage that?"

"Ree-jaw-liz"

"Hmm. Sounds like an Italian dish."

"Or a disease."

They caught each other's eye and both burst out laughing.

"Sheesh people, take Astronomy."

As Salem settled back into his seat, he couldn't help but note that was the first time in over fifteen years that he'd his brother genuinely laugh. It was a nice sound.

He then leaned forward, "You like Quidditch?"

Regulus beamed, "Heh, what sort of question is that? Do Birds sing? Do Fish swim? I don't _like_ Quidditch. I bloody love it!"

------------------------------------

It was strange. Long ago he used to describe his brother as the most boring, close-lipped, unadventurous twit that ever roamed Hogwarts. However, as the train ride progressed and Regulus relaxed in his presence stories began to come out. Apparently, Reggie was trying to persuade him to ask the hat to be placed in his house. He assured him that just because Slytherin was full of jerks didn't mean you couldn't have fun.

"They're pretty inflexible" Regulus admitted "But if you learn to use that rather than fight it. You can set up some pretty good pranks."

Sirius nearly choked. His brother pranking?! But what about all the scolding he'd got from said brother. And the nasty bloke writing home and telling mum, who in turn sent him howlers?!

"Mind you, I've never pulled any real spectacular ones. Not like the marauders, you'll meet them soon enough. But I feel it all evens out." His eyes darted to make sure the door was closed and then he leaned forward conspiratorially. "You see my targets are always a bit more dangerous. In my second year, it was I who turned Bella's hair green. The marauders were blamed of course, I mean you can't expect me to own up to it when they were so conveniently-there."

Salem remembered that incident quite well. But not even he deigned to think it was actually Reggie's doing.

"Still, still. The one I'm particularly fond of was when I stole Malfoy's mirror and enchanted it."

Salem was now leaning forward as well, eager to hear "what did you do to it?"

Regulus was now grinning from ear to ear "Now you may or may not know Lucious Malfoy. He graduated a couple years ago, but he was…how do you say…narcississitic? And he always had this mirror that he'd whip out when he thought no one was watching. So late one night after everyone was asleep, I snuck into his dormitory and got it."

"And" Salem urged.

"Enchanted it so sing every time, he used it in public. I'll always cherish that moment down at the Slytherin Table when the mirror burst into '_I feel pretty, O so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and gay!'"_

Salem fell onto the floor laughing, "Bravo, Bravo"

Regulus took a mock bow.

"So these marauders do pranks too?"

Regulus nodded and his face took on an irritated expression, "They're real mischief-makers, they hex anyone they want whenever they want. The best you can do is try to avoid them."

The next few hours went by as the boys swapped stories. And even if Salem did have to take care editing his tales, it was still…fun. Who knew Reggie could be fun? But then a small voice at the back of his mind recalled that before Hogwarts, Reggie had been his best friend.

-------------------------------

.It was evening when the train reached its destination. It was a shame. The action had an immense effect on Regulus who immediately sobered and drew stiff. They gravely donned their robes in silence.

"Come on. We've arrived at Hogwarts" Regulus announced coldly. His face composed, his postures straight.

For a moment, Salem just stared at him. This Regulus was the complete opposite of the one he'd just spent the last few hours with. Where had their good time gone?

The bullies from earlier could be heard behind them. Salem gritted his teeth; he really wanted to hex them.

"Good, they sent carriages" Regulus commented offhand. "Let's get on before they try to force us to walk."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Yes, actually"

Salem felt a rush of anger and his fists clenched. Why had he never noticed how bullied Regulus was?

As they settled, Regulus remarked "I wish we could just leave."

The bullies were coming their way. Damn. They just couldn't escape them.

Salem grinned, pulled out his wand and flicked it. Within moments, the coach was hurtling toward Hogwarts castle at breakneck speed.

Both boys were hanging on for dear life. The ride only stopped when a Professor intercepted them near the entrance.

"What on earth do you boys think you're doing?! Do you have any idea the sort of damage you could have inflic-"

"We're terribly sorry about the inconvenience, Professor. But these thestrals must not have been properly trained. We sat down and the coach went out of control. However, if their behavior is somehow our fault we give our apology and will accept a detention no matter how grossly unjust."

Sirius watched amused, as the Professor's posture went quite rigid.

"I'll see into the matter."

"I thank you ma'am."

The round-shouldered woman then went to scold the next coming carriage where a friendly game of "ignite your housemate" was taking place.

"Quite a speech. I'm surprised you managed to give while in that position."

At some point Regulus had been thrown from his seat and was now peering up at him from the floor. But he wasn't glaring. He was laughing lightly. He shook his head, "Salem you're really weird."

"I try"

---------------------------------------------

As they walked through the Entrance Hall, Regulus informed him "You'll need to be sorted as soon as possible. I can escort you to the Headmaster's office."

"Such a good prince, looking out for the citizens of his kingdom" gushed Flint. Apparently, the Slytherins had caught up.

Rabastan pretended to wipe off a tear and Barty started up with his "Saint Reggie" song.

"Don't go gallivanting on any quests for too long! Little Prince has to be safe asleep when his bedtime comes, or else we'll be writing to his dearest mummy"

When at last their obnoxious laughter had melted away and they were far out of sight, Reggie sighed, "I hate them."

"I don't blame you."

Reggie blanched and looked wildly at Salem. "I-I said that aloud, didn't I?"

Salem smirked, "And like I said, Don't Blame You"

Reggie gave an uneasy smile and beckoned Salem to follow him. It was rather humorous; like Salem needed to be told where the Headmaster's office was.

"Don't worry. I'm certain the Headmaster will act civilly. He's always cordial. Just state your business and I'm sure he'll aid you. Don't be offset by his nature. He's rather odd, but that's just the way he is."

They now stood before the great eagle sculpture. Regulus stepped forward, cleared his throat loudly and annunciated, "Licorice Wands."

The sculpture leapt aside. Salem wanted to ask just how Reggie knew the password but found himself being pushed up the spiral staircase.

When they reached the Headmaster's Office, Regulus politely knocked on the door. Salem would've just burst in, like old times.

"You may enter" came the familiar tone of Dumbledore.

"Good evening Headmaster. We hate to be of inconvenience, but my friend here is in need of assistance. Salem Rostings is a transfer from Durmstrang. He wishes to finish his years here. I know all students require a House, so…I brought him here to see you sir."

"I thank you for your courtesy Mister Black. Now if you'd excuse us." Regulus nodded and began to leave when Dumbledore stated "And Regulus, remember what I discussed with you." The younger Black paused for a moment then nodded and exited the room.

There was a moment of silence before the headmaster smiled, "Hello Sirius."

"Wait, what? How? How did you know?"

Dumbledore just smiled, his blue eyes twinkling and muttered something like the "joys of legilimens."

"I'm not…from this time."

"I know. Which is why I'll ask you to maintain that form."

Sirius nodded, "I have information, sir. A great deal." His mind buzzed with the amount. He knew countless Death Eaters, crimes…Wormtail. He felt anger pulsate through his blood.

"And are these guilty parties-guilty? We cannot punish those who are still as of yet-innocent."

As if people like Bellatrix were ever really innocent. Sirius sneered, "so you'll just let them commit atrocities?"

"In the end of all things, the choices we make in this life, are our own. And it is those choices…the ones we make alone in our darkest hour that define who we are."

This pearl of wisdom hardly satiated a fuming Sirius.

"I'll discuss the matter more in depth at a later date" Dumbledore conceded. "In the mean time, I would suggest inactivity. Tampering with the timeline could produce dire effects."

"I need to get back to my own time" Sirius growled.

Dumbledore smiled, "Well you've one thing in your favor. The future is far easier to wait for than the past."

"Just why can't we discuss everything now?" Sirius demanded.

"I need to look into some things. Research. I might speak to a few members of the Order and see if anything concerning this has been foretold in the Hall of Prophecy. And…I don't want young Mr. Black to be left waiting outside my office all night. It's rather cold and your brother has a delicate constitution. I do fear he competes with Remus with the amount of time he's spent in the Hospital Wing."

Sirius looked up in surprise, he didn't know that. He was beginning to feel that there were a lot of things he didn't know about his brother. But if it were true that his brother was in the infirmary a lot, why didn't Remus ever mention it? _Probably because you were still in your 'I hate all Blacks' phase and you kept spouting off how much you hated the snot-nosed brat_, a snide voice answered.

Sirius sighed and shook some blonde curls out of his face.

"Well, I suppose we know which house you belong in" Dumbledore remarked.

Sirius began to nod and then thought back to the boy waiting outside the office.

"So off to Gryfin-"

"Dumbledore, is it possible that I could go to another house?"

-----------------------------------

He descended the stairs, feeling apprehensive. And there was Reggie waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

"Well, Gryffindor right?"

"Nope"

"Ravenclaw?"

"Wrong again"

"Oh. OH! Er…I'm um..really sorry. I mean well-you'll probably do well there. They're pretty friendly at least."

"Wait, what?"

Regulus gave a sympathetic look, "You're in Hufflepuff."

"No I'm not! I'm… I'm in" Salem gave a forced grin "Slytherin."

Regulus blinked "Really?"

"Yep!"

"Wicked! What are your classes?"

"Right, about that. I told the Headmaster that you were the only one I'd really met. So, he put me in all your classes. Sorry, you're probably going to get sick of me."

Regulus dismissed it. "I've survived in Slytherin for four years. There's no housemate I can't endure. I'd be glad to show you around. In fact, what would like first? The Grand Hall or the Common Room."

"Common Room. I'm kind of tired."

"Me too. Once we're there, I'll have a house elf bring us something to eat."

Several stair cases later, they finally reached the dungeons.

Regulus stood before a cold stone wall and declared "Blue Blood." Salem sighed, that would be the sort of password they'd use. The walls spread and the two Slytherins entered-though the taller one looked distinctly reluctant.

Salem shivered as a draft hit him.

Regulus gave him an understanding look.

"I know. It's bloody cold. Stupid dungeon. No matter how blazing a fire they light, our common room is always icy." Regulus shivered, "You watch I'll catch pneumonia before the month is over."

"I don't know" Salem replied, pulling his robes closer about himself "I might give you a run for your money."

"Heh, I guess this would be an appropriate time to tell you that: our dormitory is downstairs."

Salem paled, "farther down than this?"

Regulus smiled "Colder too."

They found that their luggage had already been brought down. Regulus rummaged through his things.

"I really should've emptied it before I left" he confessed. He reached in and pulled out a snow globe with careful fingers. He smiled, "A world of glass can only hope to break. I'll never understand why people bother to make such things. Still, I suppose I should be grateful for any gift no matter how useless."

Salem said nothing and didn't comment on the irony when Regulus placed the trinket on his nightstand.

While scouring the bottom of the trunk, Regulus grasped his paint brush, and he wondered idly if he'd pain something later in the week. He snorted like he had that sort of time to waste. Or any paint left.

He pulled a few robes out of the trunk and went about hanging them with the rest of his clothes to avoid wrinkles.

When he was done, arranging and rearranging, he snapped his fingers and a house elf appear.

"Allo Honi,"

"Greetings Mister Black sir" a shy tanned house elf offered. "How I be serving you?"

"My friend and I would like something to eat, please. I would like a roast beef sandwhich and Salem would like…"

"Some fried chicken"

"Yes" Regulus clapped his hands decisively "So that will be one roast beef sandwhich, three fried chicken legs, two butterbeers and a basket of rolls please."

Honi nodded and Regulus beamed, "Thank you, Honi. Give the other house elves my regards."

She nodded and gave a little smile, "Yes, Mister Black." And with a pop she was gone.

"You on good standing with the house elves then?"

"Well of course. They're very helpful you know. Really go out of their way. I mean the least you can do is appreciate them. Gratefulness is all they really want. It's all anyone really wants."

----------------------------

Salem awoke to find the Boys Dormitory empty. He quickly dressed and clumsily climbed the stairs into the common room.

"He rises. I was just debating on whether or not to rouse you" chuckled Regulus from a satin green chintz chair near the fire.

"Time?" he groggily inquired.

"'Bout time to go actually. I thought about getting you something to eat, but I really didn't know what you'd like. I've half a bagel left if you're interested."

Salem yawned, "Alright."

Regulus handed it to him, "I'll go grab your supplies. It's Double Potions today and then the rest of the day is off because of…_Valentine's Day_."

Salem smirked, "You really don't like this holiday do you?"

"Of course not, I know my bro-that the marauders will be up to something! They go out of their way on holidays. You mark my words, there's no way you and I are getting out of this day without several pranks."

Potion's class was nearing its end and Salem was bored out of his mind. Slughorn's class was just as dismal as he'd remembered it to be. And what was really irritating was that Reggie kept second-guessing his measurements.

At one point Salem turned to him and told him to just relax, if the potion was a blunder it was a blunder. They could make it up later. He expected that to instigate a fight, but Regulus calmed down and began quipping out instructions with more authority.

It wasn't a perfect blend, but it was close enough that Slughorn gave them almost full-credit. The professor ruffled the younger Black's hair, "I see you're improving, Mister Black. Potions was always your hardest subject."

"Yes sir" Regulus agreed placidly. Though the moment, the professor stepped away, he fixed his hair with his lips curling.

He threw a glance to Salem and whispered, "That, unfortunately, is our Head of House. Terribly pompous, useless, and shameless. Still, he does get us out of trouble or lessens it when he can. So it'd be well in your interest to stay polite."

Salem gave a half-hearted nod. Reggie had been feeding him these kinds of tips all day. When he'd asked why? Reggie had simply stared at him a moment before stating that "these were things all Slytherins should know and it was his duty to pass such knowledge to his fellow housemate."

He was still languidly stirring the potion when there was a pop and a quack. Salem looked down to find several Rubber Duckies floating in his cauldron. Reggie glanced to see why Salem had stopped stirring. He groaned, "_that_ would be courtesy of the Prat."

"The what?"

"The Prat, that one over there. Looking so smug" Salem glanced to the corner and saw…himself-albeit younger.

Regulus glared at the figure, which waggled his eyebrows and grinned obnoxiously. Regulus gave him a rude gesture which Sirius swiftly returned (thankfully the professor had missed the exchange.)

"Ah, Mister Black" Professor Slughorn greeted "I heard you had chore-duties today. Your detentions become increasingly more creative."

Sirius grinned, "I like to think I'm an inspiring character to behold. I see Regulus potion is coming along."

"Oh yes," Slughorn agreed "He is improving. Though…Sirius," Slughorn began and wrapped an arm around the elder Black. "He doesn't have quite the expertise at the subject you do."

"Well I'm hard to follow" Sirius sent a sneering smile to his younger brother.

Regulus snorted, "He's so full of himself. Such a prat."

Salem glanced at his brother and then to his younger self-that would be one long bridge to build over a chasm.

"Yes, yes" the professor dismissed "however, if you'd like I could perhaps tweak some of your detentions into tutoring lessons for young Regulus."

All Blacks felt their jaws drop.

"Professor, I demand the right to refuse-"

Noticing his brother's distress, Sirius just smiled, "I'll think about it."

The Professor gave the 6th year Gryffindor several parcels to deliver to the Astronomy Tower. Sirius gave an elaborate flourishing bow that made half the girls in the room giggle, and swaggered out.

"Ugh. He's so ridiculous" Regulus seethed.

"You know, the potion isn't ruined. He could have really tampered with it. After all, if you heat up energy-potions they explode." Salem sighed, _I'd never __**really**__ hurt you Reg._ I mean, sure he'd maimed him before in their squabbles. But he never tried anything where Regulus could become horribly injured.

Regulus snorted, "Before you chalk it up to compassion, maybe you should know that he's probably just keeping himself out of Azkaban. I might be a Black and there's plenty who would like to see me gone, but manslaughter is manslaughter-and that wins you a Dementor's Kiss."

Regulus was too absorbed in his monologue to notice Salem's shudder.

-----------------------------------

Salem was grateful, that lunch had come and he couldn't help but grin as he noticed the decorations. He smiled as he reminisced. They'd even gotten Evans to help. About this time was the turning point in her and James' relationship. She was finally starting to fall for him.

Girls were giggling and boys were smiling suggestively while the staff members were shaking their heads at their students' antics and someone was…grumbling-no- swearing under his breath.

He turned to see an angry Regulus.

"I hate these bloody things" he announced thrusting a handful of candies before Salem's face. "And they're only raining over our table."

Salem had to hide a guilty smile. That one had been his idea.

"Shall I transfigure you an umbrella?"

His brother didn't get a chance to answer. For at that moment, the infamous marauders appeared with the fiery Evans in tow.

For a few minutes, Salem felt his heart glow at the sight. He saw himself, James, and Remus horsing around. His eyes narrowed on Wormtail.

"Why don't you ever send me a letter, my favorite flower?"

"Oh I don't know-maybe because I'd head it like this: "Dear Lizard-Breath""

"Yes my ruby-haired goblin goddess?"

"What?"

"What?"

Sirius laughed, "I don't think she appreciated it Prongs"

Evans groaned as both boys circled about her and then jumped into somersaults.

"Why on earth are you darting and dodging like that?" she griped. "You've been doing it all morning!"

"Evans, we're Secret Agents…Of Love!" Black exclaimed.

"Yeah Lils. We need to be sneaky in delivering these notes; otherwise all the mystique will vanish" James insisted, indicating the satchels full of lovenotes from various students.

Sirius nodded solemnly, "Dumbledore himself gave us this very important mission."

"Well you look ridiculous. And you're wasting time."

"You're right Evans" Sirius then went to stand on the table. "Attention classmates!" he pulled out a wad of envelopes "I'm passing out Valentines. Come see if you're one of the lucky few or a complete loser. I have one for a Cassandra Smith! I've one for John Kemmings."

Following his partner-in-crime, James also jumped onto the table, "I've got a Susan Lect. A Harold Farthems and a…" His eyes widened. "Oi Pads, I think you should know about this!" He waved a pink letter. Sirius plucked it from his mate's hand and lazily read the name.

"What the?" and then a mischievous smile stretched his face "O Reggiekins!"

Regulus buried his head in his arms, trying to block out the sound.

"Ickle Reggiekins! There's a letter here for you. Don't you want to read it?"

"No" Regulus told him bluntly.

"Here then, I'll read it to you. It'll be just like old times."

"Don't you dare" the younger Black hissed.

"Or what?" the elder smiled tauntingly.

Regulus glared.

"Fine, I won't read it on one condition: you have to participate"

"What?"

"Promise Reggiekins, or the whole hall will know the contents of this letter."

"Prat"

"Brat"

"Imbecile"

"Git"

"Wretch"

"Monster"

"Jerk"

"Toad"

"Dog"

"Woof!" and then Sirius began laughing loudly.

Regulus sighed in exasperation, why did Sirius have to be so weird?

"So, you promise?"

Regulus reluctantly nodded.

"Good" Sirius then stuffed the letter in his brother's robe pocket and dragged him to the center of the Grand Hall.

Regulus mouthed '_save me_' to Salem who just offered a wave.

Regulus felt his eye twitch as his brother led them in some muggle dance called "The Hokey Pokey." Hokey was right.

His right hand was itching for his wand.

TBC


	3. One Frail Little Brother

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, it belongs to J

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, it belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: Sorry it's been a while, my time's been dominated by that evil institution known as education. Oh and by the by, I'll apologize in advance for spelling/grammar errors—I plan to eventually go through all the chapters in well fell swoop and fix them. Yes, spoken like a true procrastinator.

Well, anyway, enough of my babbling on with Chapter 3

Salem reclined against the bleachers, eyes intent on the little book in his hands. It surprised him how addicting this pastime was becoming, though he had to be careful not to attract Regulus' attention—that could lead to a lot of difficult questions.

He was starting to spend a little time every day reading a few snippets. He had the bizarre feeling that he'd been given a huge clue—that if he finished this collection of memoirs he'd solve the mystery of his brother and be enlightened on how to rescue him from a future of Death Eater Masks and murder.

_**Dear Diary,**_

_**Siri took me out today and we got ice cream. It was good. Siri smiled at the filthy muggle ice cream man and tried to make me do it too. I didn't. Siri got mad. He says I am not good. And he didn't want to play with me for the rest of the day. He kept saying that Andi would be disappointed at me. I don't care. I'm not like Siri. I don't like Andi. She's nice to mudbloods. She's not nice to me. **_

_**Dear Journal,**_

_**Siri says I shouldn't call you diary cause that's what girls call it. We played Quidditch today in the living room. Mummy got mad. I got scared. Siri just kept laughing. I think he likes trouble. **_

_**Dear Journal,**_

_**Siri's really excited about going to Hogwarts. I wish he'd wait for me. It's going to be really quiet without him. No one's going to play or talk to me now. I thought about hiding in his trunk, but Kreacher said it was a "not good idea." When I thought about it, I could see why. Siri packs a lot of junk—a lot of nasty junk. I would not much like to be in with all his prank gear. And I don't think all of his socks are clean. Blech!**_

Salem felt a smile quirk his lips and he tore his gaze away from the book to its author soaring above head. It was hard to believe that the open, innocent dialogue of these passages belonged to the nearly mute and secretive seeker of Slytherin House.

The Slytherin Quidditch team was busy drilling this late Saturday afternoon. Flint was barking orders at his teammates like he was some supreme deity of authority.

God, the bloody lot of them looked like ogres. Well except for Regulus. But then, Regulus had the famed Black good looks. It also made him stand out like a sore thumb in the line up. He was good head or more, shorter than all the other players, and a good deal handsomer.

It was also the source of much teasing. Pansy, waif, pretty boy, little prince, were common nicknames attributed to the young Black boy.

Salem was surprised that Reggie could take it so unflinchingly. The kid never batted an eye at the insults. He took it with that resigned air of someone who was used to injustice.

It made Salem squirm with anger. How could his brother just take it? Why didn't he fight back or something? He'd have hexed the lot of them if it were him. Hell, he wanted to the curse them all now!

But Reggie would get mad at him. The boy wasn't confrontational. He kept reiterating this nonsense about the importance of keeping in the good graces of the House.

Salem sighed and pushed back a tousled blonde curl from his forehead. He watched as Regulus made another flawless maneuver in the air, swooping easily to catch the snitch.

You know, the kid was pretty good. He'd almost dare to say he could rival Harry, except that Reggie would never just "go" for it. He was just too cautious—never willing to risk it all. But then, Reggie wasn't a Gryffindor.

The Slytherin team was just drilling its Chasers on quick passes when a freak thunderstorm broke out. Salem quickly pocketed the little book. It was funny how protective he was becoming of the little thing.

Flint would have ordered the team to stay if there hadn't been lightning. The team quickly scrambled out of the downpour and in a matter of minutes the stadium was virtually empty save one player.

"Hey!" Salem called to the one lone broomstick rider. "Reggie!"

The younger Black glanced down from his vantage point in the air.

"Oi Reggie! Come on down 'fore you get electrocuted!" as if to emphasize his point a great fork of lightning streaked through the sky.

The figure slumped and reluctantly made his way back toward the ground.

"The weather's not that bad" Regulus groused as he touched ground. "We've played in worse."

"Whatever. Come on, you've still got a report for Slughorn's class right?"

Regulus groaned and made as if to mount the broomstick again. Salem grinned and caught the collar of the other boy's robes.

"Now, now. Running is not going to save you from the test next week. And you are getting better."

Regulus scoffed. "Hardly"

Salem shrugged. "You _**almost**_ passed that last quiz."

Regulus stared at him in disbelief.

"Come on, and I'll help you study."

"I'm better at Charms."

"Kid, you're better at everything save Potions. Hell, I'd say you're better at breathing underwater."

Regulus laughed, "that's a hunch nearly worth testing."

"You mean if it gets you out of the test"

"I'd certainly have a grand time explaining it to Madam Pomfrey"

Both boys chuckled and began to make their way out of the stadium.

Salem snuck a glance towards his little brother, who was unfastening his Quidditch gloves.

Regulus was surprisingly good-natured; a fact that went against his Slytherin image and Salem's memories. It just kept catching him off-guard, after all the little brother he knew denounced him—had gone so far as to tell him there was no one in the world he hated more.

They were approaching the path back to the castle, when something caught Salem's eyes. He stopped and glanced in time to see a figure in black creeping about the edge of the forest.

"Reg" he whispered urgently.

"Hmm?"

Salem gestured to the enigmatic figure. Regulus' eyes widened at the sight.

"Come on let's follow"

"Are you certain?"

"Hurry up we're going to lose him!"

Both boys dashed as quickly and quietly as they could after the dark-robed person. It was rough terrain to sprint in—the ground was swiftly turning to mud that tried to swallow their feet and weigh down the edges of their robes.

Still Salem, endowed with a multitude of previous adventures, knew how to navigate this area even in the worst weather. It was a merit to his Marauder past. Regulus wasn't so fortunate and he was soon tailing farther and farther behind Salem.

Salem, the faster of the two boys, was now catching up to the mysterious stranger, he was less than ten meters now and-and, the bloke just slipped into the Forbidden Forest. Great.

Salem halted before the dark woods. Just a few beats later, Regulus skidded to a stop behind him.

"Wait –_huff-_ what are you doing? He entered –_huff-_ here—I thought we were following" Regulus panted.

The adventurous part of Salem wanted to forge on. But this wasn't James next to him—robust and strong and dependable. This was Reggie—small and thin and a little quivery already from the cold—his Quidditch robes hanging off him.

Salem gazed into the dark forest. He knew what sort of dangers lurked there. He glanced back at Regulus, pale and wide-eyed and-and-

"No, it's fine. Let's head back to the castle" Salem swallowed his disappointment. He was sure that stranger was important.

"But he's getting away" Regulus pointed out. "We could still-"

"Next time"

Regulus looked doubtful but didn't argue as they sloshed their way back to the castle.

Salem tried to push his anger down, but could quite manage. If Reggie wasn't so weak they could have gone on after the intruder.

He dealt a swift glare out of the corner of his eye toward his brother—who completely missed it.

Regulus was currently trying, without success, to shake his wet hair out of his face—but the wind kept blowing it right back.

Finally, Regulus groaned with disgust and crossed his arms to sulk. Unfortunately, this action wasn't wise as he was still holding his broom—and then proceeded to nearly trip over it.

He caught Salem's eye and gave an exasperated smile.

And he looked so painfully young that Salem felt sick with himself for being angry. Regulus just wasn't James. _And that was always the problem wasn't it?_

They were just passing one of the inner courtyards when some whooping yells caught their attention.

They shared a glance and slowly crept over to the source of the noise.

Regulus peaked around the stone wall and stiffened in anger.

"The Marauders—they're a band of never-do-well prats that live to make life miserable for Slytherins" he explained his fellow, supposedly "new" Slytherin, friend. "Great, and their right in front of the Entrance." He sighed "We're going to have to go back. Don't worry I know some other ways into the castle."

Salem looked at him in surprise. Sure he knew that in the past he and Reggie seldom met up. But he didn't know the kid actively tried to avoid him. Though, if he thought about it he couldn't _**really**_ blame him.

"Aw, come on, I'm sure that if you just walked on by nothing would happen. I mean you haven't done anything."

Regulus gave a mirthless laugh, "My br-those jerks don't care about innocence. They figure that just being sorted into Slytherin is enough of a crime. You'll find that most of the school shares that sentiment as well."

The whooping had just turned into a jeering, and a familiar cold voice cut through the air.

"Behaving like juvenile delinquents as usual. Eh, Potter?"

"Nosing about as usual, Snivellus?"

"Come now Prongs. It's not like he can help it. It's a pretty big nose"

Regulus sighed as he peaked around the corner again, "Snape, you fool. Sometimes you just ask for it. Alright. Salem, go around to the fourth tower. The sixth brick on the bottom pushes in. It'll reveal a stairway, climb it and you'll come out on the fourth floor." He then made to walk towards the fray.

Salem caught his arm, "But I thought you-"

Regulus swallowed determinedly, "Slytherins stand together"

Salem glanced at him in disbelief.

"Maybe if there are two targets Snape won't get mauled so badly." Regulus paused seeing that he wasn't having success in convincing his comrade "Look, he's not my favorite person in the world, but he is rather useful. And if he dies, he'll be taking my Potions grade with him. He's the only reason I've managed to pass the Exams these last three years."

He then shook off his friend's restraining arm, straightened his spine, and strode off to meet the enemy.

Snape was now fully encircled by all four marauders. The greasy git didn't stand a chance.

"Four on one" Regulus drawled loudly "How fair"

Potter glanced at the newcomer and grinned nastily, "Well lookie there Pads. Little Reggie seems to want some attention. Maybe you should give him some love."

Sirius cracked his knuckles, "Maybe I should."

Lupin shook his head in exasperation and quietly withdrew to act as the look-out. He sighed; all he had wanted to do today was finish his book.

Regulus glared at his older brother and carefully retrieved his wand.

The elder Black watched with his own wand at the ready "Get outta here Regulus."

"No"

"I'm not joking Regulus. I am _**not**_ in the mood for you today. Especially, not after that stunt today. Your team knew Gryffindor had the Quidditch Stadium booked."

"Take it up with Slughorn"

"You little jerk, I bet you're the one that set them up to it. Where the hell is your sense of respect?

"I don't think you're one to talk about honor"

"Fine. But don't go crying Mummy, because big bad Sirius put you in your place."

Regulus sneered, "As if you're worth mentioning."

His brother's eyes flashed and a spell was soon hurtling his way. Regulus winced as the hex slammed into him, throwing him off the walkway and into the muddy landscape.

Still, at least he hadn't dropped his wand and even more luckily—his brother had turned his back—considering him dealt with and was now helping Potter torment Snape again.

Regulus smirked; he could use this to his advantage. He crawled carefully back onto the pavement and took aim. Ah, the joys of being a Slytherin—no one expects you to play fair anyway.

"_Tarantellgra_"

Sirius let out a yelp as his legs began dancing spastically. Noticing the perpetrator, he began his advance—a curious blend between river dancing and limping.

Regulus smiled. He knew he was doomed but…he'd make the most of it. Sirius might be his superior in magical spell-casting, but…Regulus' grin stretched as left hand scooped up a healthy chunk of mud—no one came out unscathed in a fight with Regulus Arcturus Black.

An inarticulate yell of rage left the elder Black as a ball of mud splattered against his chest.

"You-you you little-Erg-_Expelliarmus!_"

Again Regulus was slammed backward skidding deep into the mud, his wand making an arc and landing in his older brother's hand. Regulus sighed as he watched Sirius make an abrupt turn and head back toward the main fight.

Regulus groaned as he stood. Blech, he was covered in mud. Alas, the end of another school uniform courtesy of the Marauder.

Sirius stopped by Pettigrew who was rubbing his head—apparently thwarted by the sixth year Slytherin.

"What's the matter Potter, can't take me on by yourself?" Snape sneered sending a powerful hex at his rival.

Furious, James cast an equally potent Backlash-Jinx. Snape barely dodged and the spell went soaring towards Regulus who hit the deck just in time. The spell then ricocheted off the railing across the courtyard against the fountain and towards the castle.

Several moments later the undeniable sound of shattered glass emanated. Great broken windows—that was worth at least a week of Detention.

"I blame you" Regulus informed the hazel eyed boy from his place on the ground. James glared at the younger Black.

"No one asked you, imp"

"You guys. You guys!" Lupin called from his post at the corner "Filch is coming! You guys-"

For a moment no one moved as Potter and Snape continued glaring at one another—hatred burning deep in their eyes.

The tense silence was finally broken by a bout of sniffles. Snape was the first to break eye contact. He looked around in surprise, "Regulus, have you a cold? Already?"

The younger Slytherin grumbled something about "damn faulty immune system" and tried to discreetly wipe his nose with a wet handkerchief.

"Reg, catch!" his brother called throwing his wand before making a hasty departure with his friends.

Snape limped over and offered a hand, "You should have taken out Black"

"How? I did what I could"

"I think you should have dropped the wand and gone for blood."

"He'd cream me. Even without magic. He weighs twice as much!"

Snape snickered and wiped his split lip with the back of his hand.

"Oh, Salem looks petrified" Regulus murmured.

"Who?"

Snape looked up, catching sight of a blonde boy. He was just standing there, eyes wide—transfixed.

"That's the transfer student Rostings. Half-blood. Fourth-year, like me" Regulus explained as he straightened his robes. "He's still learning the ropes. I tried to tell him that the Marauders were a nasty lot, but he doubted me. Now he's witnessed it first hand."

Snape nodded as he scrutinized his new housemate.

"Oi Salem" Regulus grinned cheerfully for someone smothered in mud. "Entertaining was it?"

Salem just stared. Regulus hadn't done anything. He'd been with him all day. Flint never made a mention of having booted out another team. Regulus hadn't done _**anything**_. Innocent. And his younger self attacked the kid anyway. That hadn't been defending himself from a malicious Slytherin. That had been bullying.

"Salem" Regulus tapped his shoulder. His friend started, "Are you-"

"This is Severus Snape. Half-blood. Son of Eileen Prince, he's a fifth year good with serums and not too shabby with spell work. As you may have noticed."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance" Snape intoned with an air of distaste. Here they'd been in a scuffle and the kid had just stood there. What sort of Slytherin was he? Not coming to the aid of his housemates?

"Rostings" Salem answered shortly.

"Haven't seen you for nearly a month Snape. Just what have you been up to?" Regulus inquired politely, pretending to ignore the cold exchange.

The greasy haired kid just smiled, not answering anything.

Salem would be willing to bet his life it had something to do with that intruder from earlier. His eyes narrowed, he'd have to watch him closely. What was that muggle saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Well then, this would work out perfectly. How better to study his enemy then from his own lair. Yes, staying in the Slytherin dormitory would be very interesting.

* * *

Salem paused mid-scrawl on the scroll he was finishing for Charms.

"I want to mention that one story. You know that story that you can't stop reading—it lasts forever."

"Hmmm, a story 'neverending' sounds sort of like my brother's mouth"

Salem barely, barely bit back his retort and decided that this was an ideal moment to pry.

"Oh" he feigned shock "You've a brother. I didn't know that"

Regulus looked up in surprise and for a moment was at a complete loss of what to say.

"Er, yes. Sort of."

"Sort of? How the hell do you have a 'sort of' brother?"

"Let's just say we get on as well as most brothers do. Which is to say: dismally."

"So" Salem drawled "Just who is this brother of yours. Have I seen him be-"

"I really need to finish studying these ingredients" Regulus snapped.

"Maybe you guys just need to talk it out"

"Salem, I'm not going to lie to you. I have a better chance of becoming the next Goblin King then getting along with my brother."

"It can't be that bad"

"Oh yes. Oh yes it can and it is. It's…well…it's just…I need to finish this assignment."

Salem sighed. How was he supposed to patch things up between his past self and his brother? He knew his own reasons for arguing, but Reggie's? The cause of his brother's animosity was still a mystery. Sure the kid would retort with abstractions about honor and principle, but he didn't know Reggie's code of ethics—and until he figured it out, the Black brothers would continue feuding.

Regulus sighed as he crumpled yet another tissue.

"Maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey"

"Maybe" he replied noncommittally.

"She could probably fix you up"

Regulus didn't say anything as he aimed the balled up snot-rag for the waste basket. He smiled "and he scores."

Salem shook his head "hate to admit it, kid, but you've got a pretty good aim for a Seeker."

"Plenty of practice"

Salem frowned "You always sick?"

Regulus shrugged, "It's the stress. My nerves make me prone to illness."

"What have you got in your life to be stressed about?"

Regulus gave a grim smile, "you don't want to know."

"I hear you're rich. You're the family favorite-as well as the baby to boot. I bet you're doted on all the time."

Regulus stared at him, "Is that what the populace thinks?"

"Yeah, that's the general consensus."

"Good."

"Why?"

"No one will come nosing in then. Let them think whatever they want."

"What do you mean?"

Regulus studied him for a moment before leaning in conspiratorially. He looked as though he was about to share, before his eyes became veiled. He leaned back, shrugged, offered a cryptic, "All's not well in Paradise."

"It's not all rosy?"

Regulus tipped his head and laughed mirthlessly (which gained a stern Shhh! From the librarian). He lowered his voice obligingly, "My life is so far from that fairytale you're hearing—it's not even funny."

"Didn't get that broom you wanted for Christmas?"

"Yes, and we have yet to convert all our toilets to gold lids. Seriously though, you'd cringe if you knew what I bought myself for my birthday last year."

"Why? What?"

The smaller boy just shook his head, "No, you're kind of soft Salem. I don't think you would appreciate my practicality."

"Try me."

Regulus just kept smiling that hollow grin, "You'd cringe"

"Tell me!" (The librarian was now openly glaring in their direction)

Salem murmured an apology before leaning across the table. "Tell me" he whispered urgently.

Regulus leaned back, hands behind his head, "I wonder what my br-what the marauders would think"

"Since when do you care what they think?"

"I don't. Not really."

"Then why bring them up?"

Regulus shrugged, "Well they are the bane of my existence. And I fully intend to spring my revenge before they graduate and are beyond my grasp. Well before three of them escape, I'm not entirely convinced that Pettigrew will advance."

"He's a cad" Salem gritted vehemently before he could stop himself. He was already shaking with barely restrained hate. It was so tempting to just hunt the traitor down now and dispatch him.

Regulus nodded sagely. "Oddly enough he is. For a Gryffindor, he's really rather cruel."

Salem glanced at him in surprise.

"He picks on Slytherin first years"

"Would be his style bullying little kids" he glowered, feeling his already low opinion of Peter plummeting.

"No Salem. It's not pranks or small humiliations. He's not clever enough for that. He torments first year Slytherins. The Marauders go after third Years and up with very few exceptions."

"You watch them real closely, don't you?"

"Well of course he does" a cold voice cut in "Regulus has always been reconnaissance, since first year, if I'm not mistaken"

Regulus greeted Snape politely as he joined their table.

Snape glanced at him surreptiously before declaring "You look like hell Reg. Are you boycotting Pomfrey again?"

"I'm not that sick" Regulus murmured, eyes flashing in mounting irritation.

"Of course" Snape replied flatly and set his book on the table with a resounding thud. "Do you need some help preparing for Potions? I think your class is moving onto sleeping potions, correct?"

"Yes, but it's alright. Salem's been helping me."

Snape lifted an eyebrow in surprise, "Oh." Salem had to swallow a smug smile, it was obvious from the tone that Snape considered himself Reggie's official tutor. Well that was going to change. Snape was a bad influence. One he fully intended to remove from Reggie's life.

"However…"

"Yes?"

"Do you think-maybe if you have some spare time-would you brew me some Pepper-Up Potion?"

"You are avoiding the Hospital Wing, then"

Regulus sighed "It's that Lupin kid. See, we normally just ignore each other as House Conduct demands-but lately he keeps trying to strike up conversation…I think he's setting something."

"Paranoid, aren't you?" Salem remarked softly.

"With good reason" Snape argued "Even if Lupin is one of the less-instigative ones of the group. He's still a Marauder. They're not to be trusted. Ever."

"Well that's not a fatalistic statement" Salem snickered.

Regulus shrugged, "Better to err on the safe side. Besides, I'd like Madam Pomfrey to think I can go two weeks without needing to see her. See, we have a bet."

Now that caught Salem's attention "You bet with faculty members?"

"All the time. McGonnagall still owes me a sickle. A couple weeks before you transferred, we had a Crystallization Lesson. She said that a Black couldn't last the duration without breaking something. Proved her wrong. I didn't break something until _**after**_ class ended."

"Ah, stipulations" Snape smiled.

"Well of course. I live my life by the aid of small print and loop holes"

"Sounds foolproof"

Regulus chuckled before descending into a coughing fit.

Salem watched him with concern. Regulus noticed and waved a dismissive hand as he recovered. "I'll be fine"

* * *

The Hogsmeade weekend arrived and Regulus was not fine. He'd lost what little color he had and his voice was fleeing.

"I don't know. Are you sure you should go?" Salem looked over the pathetic form.

Regulus looked at him indignantly, but it didn't give the effect he was going for—if anything he just looked more pitiful.

Even as bundled up as he was, it didn't hide his pasty complexion or the deep circles under his eyes—didn't help the red runny nose either.

"It's not that big a deal. They'll be other trips."

"We're going" Regulus announced resolutely marching over to where the other students were massing.

Regulus was coughing and sniffling incessantly as the carriages carried them. Salem looked at him in concern, was it just him or was that cough sounding worse?

When they exited the carriage the conversation changed to careers.

"Just what do you see yourself doing in the future?"

"I don't know. My mum wanted me to be a School Governor or something equally prestigious"

"Well, what do _**you**_ want to be."

"It doesn't really matter" Regulus shrugged.

"You could be an Auror, or an Author, or have a job at the Ministry. And those are just the some jobs you could have in the Wizarding World."

"Oh yes, Salem. Deep down, I live with the dream that one day I may be a model advertising muggle 'miracle shampoo' " Regulus deadpanned.

Salem laughed, "Well, I'm honored you confided in me."

"What about you? What occupation are you seeking?"

"Auror"

"And part-time clown?"

"Possibly"

The boys chuckled as they walked through the village, green banners highlighting the area.

Regulus was about to comment on a few jobs that interested him, when Salem grabbed his arm.

"Come on let's go"

"Go where?" the young Black questioned.

Salem pointed to an old oak sign reading: O'Riley's Brewery and Bar, there was a dog snoozing beneath it. Salem took that as a good omen.

Reggie resolutely shook his head no. "I'm not going in there. It's an absolute dive. I can tell from here—the smell's enough."

"I know you don't hold much value in holidays. But it's St. Patrick's Day Reg. Don't you want to get the full experience?"

"St. Patrick's Day? Huh, you're right. Well that does explain why there are shamrocks everywhere. Good thing green is part of my regular ensemble hmm?"

"We should celebrate. Maybe they'll give you something strong enough to burn out that cold. Let's have some fun!"

"Be my guest"

"It'll be _**fun**_"

"Then go"

"Fine" Salem snapped and entered the pub alone. Reggie's non-adventurous spirit really weighed on him sometimes. The kid just didn't _**do**_ fun. It was really grating. He was starting to wonder if Regulus had made up those pranks he'd shared on the train. It had been about a month, and Reggie had yet to prank anyone.

He swaggered to the bar and rested an elbow against the counter.

"Top of the morning, may I help-'ey no kids allowed" the bartender, a plump Irish man with thinning red hair, frowned at his unwanted customer.

"Allo Riley" Salem grinned.

"Whatever ya want. The answer's no. No kids"

"Good thing I'm not a kid"

"Listen lad, I'm not in a mood to be trifled with. Getcha gone now."

"Come on be a sport. It's St. Paddy's day" Salem whined.

"And you won't be celebratin' it here lad"

"I'm not leaving"

The Irish man smirked, "Oh really?"

Regulus smiled as he watched his friend sail out of the doors.

He was standing outside scratching the owner's German Shepherd behind the ear.

"Hmmm…following your victory toast with a shot of mud?"

"Shut up"

Regulus grinned.

* * *

"Do you really want to enter there?" Regulus groaned eyeing the Zonko shop with distaste.

"I love joke shops!" his friend insisted dragging him closer.

"Fine"

Salem grinned as the door chimed on their entrance. Ah the sweet aroma of freshly package dungbombs, the smell of mischief. He walked around the shop, reminiscing about the good ol' times.

He watched Regulus out of the corner of his eye. Now if he could just Regulus to start liking this stuff, maybe he could build a common foundation between the Black brothers of the past.

They were just passing a display advertising exploding yo-yos when they overheard:

"I just have to win Evans over"

"With what?"

"You know my irresistible charm" James grinned.

"Since when did you have that?"

"Shut up Pads"

Regulus slumped over one of the shelves, "Why? Why do they have to be everywhere? Let's please sneak out before they notice us?"

"Reg, you've just as much right to be here as they do."

"I know, but I don't feel like battling for that right today. I fight when I absolutely, otherwise I prefer to just coast on by."

"Oh you mean you prefer to be passive-aggressive."

"You make that sound like a bad thing."

Lupin was the first to notice them and he began frantically gesturing for them to go away; even going so far as to mouth "Please."

Then Sirius caught sight of them, "Itching for Round 2, hmm Reg?"

"We're just browsing the store, Sirius. It's not like you own it, so step aside."

"Oho, you're going to make me?"

"I might"

Sirius crossed his arms in challenge. He scrutinized the miserable form before him, "Just what are you planning to do? Ooze on me."

"That idea has some merit. Biological warfare is a favorite of mine"

"Aww, what's the matter? Does wittle Weggie have a cold? Does his Mummy need to make him all better?" Peter taunted trying to get a rise from his comrades.

Salem's eyes twitched. God. Evans hadn't been exaggerating. They _**were**_ jerks. Regulus wasn't doing anything other than being there breathing. He felt a memory stirring. _'Well it's more the fact he exists' _Back then he'd laughed with James, but now…

"Well Weggie?" Peter goaded as he moved forward.

Regulus said nothing and made to step back. But the other kid kept coming.

"Well Re-gu-lus" he enunciated, poking the kid hard with each syllable "Is some-"

That was the last straw for Salem, and his fist became acquainted with Peter's gut. The chubby kid's eyes bulged as he spluttered for breath. He didn't get it, because the blonde Slytherin began savagely beating him. Years of pent-up loathing were being released.

"Hey!!" Sirius yelled beginning to charge the blonde kid. How dare he hurt his friend?! He didn't make it far before a certain younger brother leapt onto his back.

Regulus screwed his eyes tight and held on for dear life. Who knew he was going to die so young? He hoped Salem appreciated his sacrifice.

It took Sirius longer than he expected to pry his brother's wiry arms off his neck and even longer to disconnect the kid from his clothes. God he was like Devil's Snare!

Sirius finally managed to hurl the kid off. Regulus (used to being a victim) used the momentum to roll into standing. This was normally the part where he ran but…he glanced at Salem. The kid was still beating on Peter, even though Potter had him in a headlock.

Regulus swallowed. He couldn't just leave without his housemate. And so…that left him contending with his brother.

Sirius glared. That little brat! It looked like older brother was going to have a dish out a well-earned beating. He was about to pop him one when the younger Black began hacking loudly—finally becoming so short of breath he had to kneel.

Sirius gradually relaxed as it became clear his brother wasn't going to be retaliating. He stood awkwardly to the side and shifted uncomfortably when the coughing lasted more than a minute.

Sirius leaned over him in surprise, "You dying of the plague Reg?"

Regulus glowered up at him "Possibly." He started to rise before another fit caught him and he was forced back to his knees.

He felt a hard pat to his back and noticed his brother kneeling next to him, "Sheesh, Reg, breathe."

A loud yell, sounded like Potter, caught their attention and Sirius dashed away—eager to help his best mate.

Regulus slowly rose using the shelves to balance, a wave of dizziness swept over him and he had to fight to remain standing.

Regulus inched his way forwards to watch the escalating skirmish.

The fight didn't end until the four boys (who'd been creeping towards the front of the store as the fight went on) finally crashed over the counter—causing the cash register to fall and gold coins to shower the floor.

One irritable shop owner rant later, all six boys found themselves banned from the store for the next two trips.

"Thanks a lot Regulus" Sirius growled

"Anytime" his younger brother answered distractedly, wiping a hand across his sweaty brow. Perfect, he was getting a fever and his chest felt tight.

The Marauders stalked off leaving the two Slytherins to stand in the drizzle.

"You happy?" Regulus snapped. "Did you _**want**_ a confrontation?"

"Yes" Salem nodded, his eyes bright—his body still trembling with adrenaline.

Regulus sighed feeling a headache coming on, "Let's just go and wait at the station for the coaches"

Salem began to protest when Regulus glared, "I've had enough excitement for one day. My nose is still straight and I intend to keep it that way."

With that he swept away, said nose held high.

* * *

Salem was starting to worry. It'd been a couple weeks now and Regulus' health was continuing its decline. And the kid was starting to disappear throughout the day. He could only hope he was visiting Pomfrey. Every time he asked, Regulus deflected his concern with a change in topic.

Not to mention how the kid had started getting letters all this week. He might've hinted at a secret admirer except, the kid would go so pale after reading one. And for the rest of the day would stare hollowly out of the window.

Was he getting threats or something? He wanted Regulus to come out and tell him what was wrong, but the kid would insist that everything was fine. Yeah, right.

The kid had just read another one. He tucked the letter in his robes, glanced at his plate, and grimaced.

"What's the matter?"

"Huh? No, nothing. We should leave for Divination now if we want a good spot."

Salem nodded watching him suspiciously. It was so tempting to just tackle him, take the letter and find out what the hell was going on. But Regulus wasn't a marauder—he wouldn't welcome the intrusion of privacy no matter how well-intentioned his motives were.

Salem sighed as he took in the Divinations classroom. All the windows were blocked with gauzy fabrics and every chair had a beaded pillow. The tables were dressed in dark satin purple slips—their centers adorned with a sing crystal ball.

The room had that muggle fortune teller feel—it reminded him of that time he and James went to the muggle circus. James had dragged him off to the psychic's tent for palm readings. James was desperate to hear that Evans was his one true love.

"I don't know how you stomach this class" Salem griped.

Regulus kicked him in the shin. Salem glared.

"This is one of my favorite classes" the smaller boy hissed.

"'Cause you can just lie your way through it?" Salem inquired.

Regulus frowned "Not everyone has to lie"

The other boy laughed, "What? You a fortune teller Reg?"

Regulus shrugged a shoulder and set his book 'Exploring the Super Natural-A Spiritual Guide by Sila Pharrows' next to the glass globe.

Salem glanced at it and swore, "I left that book at the library yesterday." He groaned, raking a hand through his curls. "Will you tell the professor where I went?"

"It's not a problem, I'll get it" Regulus volunteered.

"No, I can-"

"It's fine. I could use the walk. My head's a little…off today."

"Maybe you should-"

"I'll return shortly"

Regulus sighed as he climbed down the ladder that led to the tower, fighting a wave of vertigo.

He stopped and rested against a wall. He was getting a migraine; he could feel it creeping in and knew from experience, it was best not to dwell on it. Only had two more classes to endure, he just had to last until then. He could crash later.

He took off with a brisk stride, trying to ignore how his lungs just didn't seem to be filling as swiftly as he needed them to.

His head was starting to pound now and his ears were filling with a buzzing sound.

He had to hurry down to the library and grab Salem's book fast, if he planned on getting back on time. Though, if he was late by a few minutes, it wouldn't be too big a travesty. He smiled to himself, one of the perks of being Professor Mistereo's favorite.

It was funny. He was running full pace and he didn't seem to be getting anywhere. He was just reaching the staircase now.

He kept telling himself it was just a little bit further, but it wasn't working. And you know things aren't looking good when you can't even lie to yourself. And if he couldn't do that, how was he going to lie to others?

God he was moving so slow, like he was made out of lead. And he was roasting. Weird. Salem kept adamantly vowing it was freezing.

His head was buzzing again and he was losing focus. That wasn't good. The stairs were steep—all the more reason to hold onto the—huh, the railing just sort of disappeared. In fact everything was disappearing like magic or something. Strange. The ground had faded to black…and the ceiling…and the edges of his world and huh, the edges were closing in. And then he knew no more, swallowed in the dark sea of unconsciousness.

* * *

Damn. He was running late again. McGonnagall was going to have his head. She'd already made clear what she thought of his tardies—knowing her she'd probably drive the message home with an even worse detention—like scrubbing toilets or something.

He skidded into the Entrance Hall. Great. You know you're running late when the staircases are barren. He began sprinting up the stairs two at a time. He checked his watch. If he kept this up, he just might make it.

First floor, Second Floor, Third Floor—he was going to make it. He checked his watch again. Yes! He was going to make it! He was going to—WHAM!

One hard hit and a jumble of limbs later, Sirius landed back on the Second Floor platform.

Sirius released a string of swear words before cracking an eye and seeing the cause for his untimely tumble.

"Regulus you stupid little prat. What the hell are you pulling?" he hissed at his brother who lay atop of him. But no retort greeted him.

"Bloody perfect. You've made me late!" Silence. Sirius frowned. Something wasn't right.

"Regulus? Reg? Regulus?" He shook the slight form. No response. "Regulus! This isn't funny. Quit it. Reg?"

He carefully propped himself up on one elbow and used his other hand to shake his brother. Not even a groan. He tapped Reggie's cheek. Nothing.

The kid was messing with him. He had to be. Trying to push down his mounting panic, he gently leaned his brother's head back and carefully pulled an eyelid—all white. Nope. Reggie wasn't acting. He wasn't stiff, so he hadn't just been stunned by some passing git. No, he was limp and feverish and he'd just…passed out.

"Alright. Alright" Sirius swallowed nervously. His little brother was unconscious and he had no idea why. So…So…the first order of business was to-to find someone who _**would**_ know. The Infirmary! Right! Right! That's where he'd go. He quickly gathered his little brother up and went racing to the Hospital Wing.

"Poppy!" he called "Poppy! Emergency! It's Regulus—he was walking or well—he was actually coming downstairs and well he just sort of fell on me—see because I was climbing up the stairs and well we-we crashed and I-I'm pretty sure I took the worst of it but he's not waking up. And he's all pale and not moving and I-I"

"Mr. Black what on earth are you-" she caught sight of his cargo "Over here. Lay him down carefully."

Madam Pomfrey led Sirius over to an empty bed. She swiftly checked the younger Black's vitals before sighing.

"Is that a bad sigh? A sigh of doom or something? Is he?"

"He'll be fine, Mr. Black. He just fainted again. I'm sure he'll recover within the hour. If you wish, I'll send word when he awakens. But for now you should return to your classes. He's in good care, I assure you."

"Again" Sirius stated. "Again? What do you mean again? He's fainted before?"

Now it was Madam Pomfrey's turn to look surprised. "Mr. Black, your brother has always been rather…delicate. He's suffered increasing fainting spells since his third year."

* * *

"He fainted?" James snickered, careful to keep his voice low lest attract the Transfiguration teacher's ire.

"Yeah" Sirius nodded.

Peter was busy making fainting motions, until Sirius finally smacked him hard in the gut.

"But what gets me, is that Poppy looked at me like I was the one out of the loop. Like him just _**passing out**_ is normal."

"It _**is**_ normal Sirius. Regulus is in the hospital wing all the time."

"What?" Sirius whipped around to face Remus, who was diligently writing down notes.

Sirius jerked his quill out of his hand, "What are you going on about?"

Remus shrugged wrestling his quill back, "I see him there a lot."

"What-why didn't you say anything before?" Sirius demanded.

"You didn't want to hear it"

TBC….


	4. Slytherin Loyalties

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, it belongs to J

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, it belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: Thank you soo much for your reviews! I really appreciate them. They make me grin and swivel around in my computer chair with enthusiasm.

By the way, I've no real idea when Reggie's b-day is so I'm just guessing.

And 'drafty' should be a word.

On to Chapter 4!

* * *

"Evans says I'm not cultured. I argued I was so she started asking my opinion on some "Scream" and what I thought of Munk"

"Munch" Remus corrected. "'_The Scream_' is one of his more popular paintings." Noting the blank stares on his friends' faces, he sighed. "You know—the famous muggle artist?" Nothing. "Oh for goodness sake people, take Muggle Studies!"

James sighed and glanced at Sirius. His best mate had been silent for a while now—he just kept clenching and twisting his quill. James pulled a face at the poor bent feather, Sirius was really stressing.

"Pads, I'm sure he's alright. You said yourself that Poppy didn't seem panicked, so it's probably no big deal."

Sirius said nothing and continued torturing his writing device.

Lessons were nearly finished when an owl swooped through the hallway dropping a message on the professor's desk.

After straightening her papers, McGonnagall strode to the back of the class note in hand, "Mr. Black."

Sirius nearly snatched the letter from her hand. She raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as she returned to the front of the classroom.

He hastily tore it open and read its contents. His lip curled in distaste as he crumpled the note, "it just says he's awake."

"See he's fine" James assured.

"It doesn't say why it happened"

"He probably just stayed up too late, Pads. You know those Slytherins, they're always plotting something nefarious. I bet he spent so much time conniving, he put off his homework and had to pull an all-nighter to finish it" James reasoned, ruffling his hair.

"What if I hadn't been there? What if he cracked his skull open? And it was during class time—no one would've found him until it was too late and he-"

"I wouldn't worry. You're brother's got a pretty hard head Pads."

Remus smirked, "Yes, almost as tough as yours"

Sirius glowered, his hand fisting, finally causing the feather to snap in two.

Peter looked on in confusion, "But Padfoot, I thought you didn't like him. You always say he's a worthless snot-nosed little prick. That he's ruined your life from the moment he entered it. If he did slip and…ya know…wouldn't that make things easier for you?"

"Shut up, Wormtail. It's just…well you know that bloody tyrant who calls herself my mother. I'd never hear the end of it if something had to precious Prince Reggiekins."

Peter hastily turned around and cowered at his desk for a few moments before trying to sneak a peak from Remus' notes.

Sirius pushed away from his desk with a loud screech that gained half the class's attention. He haphazardly slung his materials into his book bag and strode to the front of the room.

"Mr. Black?"

He waved the letter, "My brother-"

McGonnagall nodded, "Very well, make sure to finish the assignment on your own time."

Sirius gave an impatient nod and began making his way to the door.

"Oh and Mr. Black?"

He turned.

"Tell your brother he has the rest of the week to finish his report on 12th Century transfiguration techniques. Health before homework. I expect him to be well when he returns. And if he ever transfigures his used tissues again, it'll be a detention. Bodily excretions are not suitable mediums."

* * *

_**Dear Journal,**_

_**Siri has gone to Hogwarts. He got sorted into Gryffindor. Mum and Dad are very upset. But I'm not really surprised. I guess I always figured that Siri was more brave than sly any day. Still, everyone seems furious-that he let down our family. I just keep thinking at least it wasn't Hufflepuff.**_

_**Dear Journal,**_

_**Siri's been writing about Hogwarts. It sounds like lots of fun. He says he actually likes it in Gryffindor. He says we'll have a lot of fun when I come to school. He talks like he expects me to be in that house too. I don't think that it'll happen.**_

_**I'm not as a brave as Siri. I mean I like adventures it's just that I don't normally go looking for danger. I remember a few years ago on our family vacation I lost my toy sailboat at the creek. We found it tangled against some twisting tree roots. The problem was it was on the other side of the creek. Siri went right in, even though Mum warned us about grindylows. I wouldn't go. He said I was being a baby. But I just couldn't go. I don't like swimming. No, it's more than that. I got a few centimeters from it and froze. Got this awful, awful feeling. See, I'm really scared of drowning. Don't ask why. I don't know, but I am. **_

Salem sighed and closed the book, replacing it in his pocket. He tapped his foot for a few minutes, stretched his shoulders, and finally offered an irritable glance at the empty spot at the table.

Where was he? This was his favorite bloody subject! The class was almost over. Even if his textbook had been accidentally shelved by the librarian, Regulus would have found it by now. The kid had a real gift with books—he could spot the ones he wanted, as if they were calling to him.

Salem slouched in his seat glowering at the crystal ball. Professor Mistereo was blathering on about precognition and how the orb held infinite clues to the future.

Rubbish. No…the journal he held in his pocket—now _**that**_ held a vast array of clues. It was real, not this hokey lot of smoke and glass.

He glanced at the blank seat beside him. The kid would have gone on a tirade if he heard those thoughts. Regulus was a devout believer of this subject. They'd already had few quarrels over it. The kid would scowl and retort, that just because seers were rare did not mean they were nonexistent—and their art deserved to be shared with the world in a sympathetic atmosphere. To which Salem would argue that it was all a waste: Hogwarts hadn't pumped out a decent fortune-teller in centuries.

Salem began twisting his quill between his fingers. He should've been back by now.

He shifted uncomfortably. Regulus had gone alone. '_Slytherins stand together_' they had to, they were picked off, when they weren't. A lot of the elder Gryffindors would boast about their battles with lone Slytherins. Those snakes were such a nasty lot, sneering at the so called 'low society'—knocking them down a peg—that was justice.

He grabbed his book bag and carefully crept out of the room when the teacher wasn't looking.

Regulus sighed, glancing at the white tiled ceiling. There were 869 tiles. He knew that, counted it last year when a bludger had cracked his sternum. He shifted to his side. Madam Pomfrey was in her office, he could see her silhouette.

The moment he'd awoken, she hurried over—checking his vitals, asking his routine this morning, his symptoms, etcetera. She wanted him to be awake for at least an hour before she gave him a Pepper-up Potion. And that he needed to eat something. She then disappeared into her office.

His stomach flopped. He did not feel like eating, and his head was still pulsing. But none of that mattered. He glanced at his book bag resting beside the head of his bed. He needed to go down to the library and get Salem's book. It was true that Regulus lied often—from trivial to major issues, but if he _**did**_ give his word to do something—he did it. And he did it immediately.

He hated this feeling of waiting, of weakness. Pomfrey would be furious if he left before her official dismissal. But he was fine. He lifted himself and his arms began trembling.

Alright, he admitted, so he was a little off today. But it was nothing to be overly concerned about. He was stressed. And he wasn't going to get any less stressed sitting here waiting—and doing nothing of merit.

He had just moved into a sitting position against the headboard when he noticed the person at the foot of the bed. It took all his Black composure to keep the surprise from his face. Sheesh, that bloke could really creep up on you.

Regulus nodded, "Salem"

The blond forced a smile, "So you finally came to your senses and came here. You know, I was wondering what became of you."

"I'm not entirely sure" Regulus admitted "One of the teachers or prefects must have found me.

"Found you?" Salem echoed perplexed, his grin fading

"I blacked out" Regulus stated matter-of-fact, shrugging a shoulder as though it was no big deal.

"What!?"

"I blacked out, coming down the stairs" the smaller boy explained. "Still I'm fine though"

Salem glanced at him in clear disbelief.

"Really" Regulus insisted "I'm well enough to leave right now."

To prove this, he swung his legs off the bed, slung his bag over his shoulder, and stood. He marched confidently toward the entrance and…promptly clipped the doorway.

Regulus staggered back clutching his shoulder, flushing terribly he argued, "That doesn't prove anything—I've just got…bad depth perception…today."

"Says the Slytherin seeker"

"Well you know what. You know what. Just-Just Nyah!!"

"How articulate!"

"Give me a break today"

"Why don't you stop pushing yourself and rest?"

"Look I'm fine. Or at least I will be. Soon. I'll just rest in the dormitory after we get your book, and I turn in my assignment to Professor Mistereo. "

"I can do that"

"I had a question" Regulus dismissed him.

"Regul-"

The boy ignored him and began to tug at the door handle. He glanced at it perplexed. He stared at Salem, "It's not opening? Why is not opening?"

Finally the door ripped away from his grasp and he found himself face to chest with one of his least favorite Gryffindors.

"What are you doing?"

"Existing, does that offend you?" Regulus sneered.

"Why are you up? Where do you think you're going?" the elder Black demanded pulling Regulus back into the room by the collar of his robes

"What business of that is yours?"

Sirius was about to retort when he noticed the bystander. He glared at the blond Slytherin. That was the little jerk that jumped Peter! For no good reason! His hand itched for his wand. Still, revenge wasn't what he came here for.

"Out pipsqueak" he growled. Salem raised an eyebrow; he just wasn't one to be bullied—not even from himself.

"Now" the Gryffindor glared "I got to talk with the brat."

The blond kid looked surprised at that and to Sirius' relief left without a fight.

The elder Black stole a glance at the younger. Regulus' scowl resembled something like betrayal as he watched his fellow Slytherin leave.

The moment the kid was out, Sirius released his brother and shut the door.

"Now answer my question, what the hell are you up to?"

"What do you care?"

"I don't! I just well. I think I deserve some explanation after you bloody landed on me?! You-you made me late to my class…having to haul your scrawny arse to the infirmary!"

Damn. Of all the people to fall on…it had to be him. He could feel a flush on its way; he desperately clung to his composure. Great, this story was going to be echoed all over Gryffindor tower and soon throughout the school.

He crossed his arms and glared—trying to act taller. Unfortunately, this made him look more petulant than intimidating.

Sirius glared right back and neither Black said anything for several moments.

When it became clear that the younger Black had no intention of continuing the conversation, Sirius shifted uncomfortably and tried to change the topic for a moment at least.

"McGonnagall's giving you the rest of the week to finish your project. She says not to return until you're well and…Oh and don't transfigure your snot" he finished with a look of revulsion.

Regulus passed his fingers through his hair, "That's out of context. You see she said that we had to have a finished piece made of some unusual material and…inspiration comes in many forms"

His brother continued to look revolted.

"You sort of had to be there…" Regulus shrugged.

"Err…right…anyway, what's this all about?" Sirius asked waving a hand around.

"I believe it's called an infirmary"

"You know what I mean."

"I can say without hesitancy that I never know what _**you**_ mean. We speak different language you and I. And I'm afraid I'm just not fluent in Stupid."

"Could fool me" his brother returned just as snidely. He was not leaving until he got an answer.

Regulus growled, "Just who do you think you are barging in and giving orders anyway?"

"Oh sorry, your highness I forgot that's your prerogative" Sirius sneered.

"You're such a-"

"Such a what?" Sirius pushed "Go on say what you want, princeling—never stopped you before"

Whatever Regulus might've wanted to say, he couldn't. He felt his throat close. He was on the verge of a coughing fit. He tried without success to swallow the undoubtedly horrid sounding cough.

"Well? I know Slytherin's not known for its courage, but go ahead pluck some. I dare you."

Regulus glared. He really didn't want to cough in front of him. He hated appearing vulnerable, to his brother especially. He was not going to be a subject of ridicule. He kept his mouth clamped shut. This wouldn't be such a problem, but…he was congested and already his lungs were starting to burn.

His eyes were watering with the effort. He was desperately hoping his brother was just going to storm off like he normally did. Because the moment he took a breath, he'd have a coughing episode. His chest was already starting to spasm.

_Go_, he thought desperately, _just go_. But Regulus was no legilimens and his brother stood there resolutely, anger mounting, arms crossed; face hard, waiting for an answer.

Alas, the need for air defeated his resolve.

Sirius stepped back startled by the ferocity of the hacking fit that gripped his brother. He glanced about and noted the pitcher of water sitting on the bedside table. He poured a glass and stiffly offered it to the ailing boy.

Regulus glared and shook his head trying to say he was perfectly fine.

"Take it" his brother ordered, practically shoving it in his face.

Begrudgingly, Regulus accepted the drink—sipping carefully.

Silence reigned again as both Blacks tried not to make eye-contact.

Sirius let out an exasperated breath, and was about to comment on the weather when the door opened.

"Severus!" Regulus grinned as the elder Slytherin skulked in the room. "What are you in for? Experiment gone wrong?"

"Yes, but you know I gave up on you a long time ago"

"Har, har. Really Snape, comedy's your calling—forget about the professor career."

"Here" he offered throwing what appeared to be a very small rectangular box—maybe the length of a palm.

Regulus caught the item, confused for only a moment. His face split into a grin and he eagerly opened the deck of cards. He extracted one sheaf, admiring it.

"New tarots" he murmured appreciatively.

"Of course. It's only fair. My potion back in January ruined your cards. It took me a while to track down, but I think you'll find those as a suitable replacement."

Reg nodded, absorbed in admiring the artwork on each card.

Meanwhile, Sirius stood awkwardly to the side during the exchange. It was strange, seeing his ever stoic brother react so exuberantly. His brother never greeted him like that.

It was always disdain or indifference. And to see him acting so inviting to Snivellus of all people.

Without any tenseness or awkward feelings, Snape sat down on the bed. Casually he began pointing at the different cards and asking what they meant; to which Regulus enthusiastically launched into description. Snape would offer nods and 'ohs,' clearly humouring the younger Slytherin.

Acting like-like friends. Sirius' eyes narrowed. No more like, like. Severus reached over and ruffled his brother's hair. Like brothers.

A sharp crack resounded. Startled, both Slytherins glanced toward the source. The glass of water on his bedside was leaking water through a great fracture in the side.

Regulus studied the broken glass curiously.

"It's probably the temperature. In my elementary school we were instructed about this sort of thing" Snape stated matter-of-factly.

Regulus nodded. It certainly made more sense then…no…it couldn't have been accidental magic? He looked towards his brother, but the infirmary was empty save for the two Slytherins.

* * *

"So are all your ill-conceived fears relieved?" James asked brightly as his best mate entered their dormitory.

"He won't say what's wrong. I'm going to have keep hounding him, if I want an answer."

"You're reading too far into this" James groaned slumping on his bed. "Let's plan something. A prank on the faculty or Snivellus or-"

"What do you think, Moony?" Sirius questioned.

"Does it matter?" the studious Gryffindor asked off-hand—nose firmly planted in his Arithmancy textbook.

Sirius scrambled onto the other boy's bed, staring imperiously.

Remus sighed and placed his book on his side table.

"What?"

"Do you think there's something wrong with him?"

"Well according to you, he always-"

"I'm not talking about what I say" Sirius interrupted angrily "Do you think he's really alright?"

"How should I know Pads, it's not like I've got his diary handy"

Sirius straightened his eyes bright.

"No" Remus argued quickly "No Sirius don't"

"But I like that idea. He's the brooding type, so you know he keeps one. And it's so straightforward. If all else fails I'm going for that plan."

"As much as I am for action, I'm going to have to side with Moony on this. Try talking to him again" James piped in.

"Well, you said you're both in the hospital wing a lot. Does he display anything…odd?"

"I think he's just got a weak constitution"

"Since his third year" Sirius prompted.

"Yes, since…well…I don't…"

"So you only started seeing him last year. You didn't see him before then?"

"I'm…normally preoccupied…I can't really say"

"If he's so prone to illness why did it only start up all of a sudden? He didn't get sick like this when we were little."

James rolled his eyes, "They're poisoning him Sirius. Bellatrix decided enough was enough and-"

"Do you think it could be a hex or a spell or something? Is that possible?"

"I really doubt it, Pads. From what I understand, your family…likes him; I don't think they'd…do anything."

Normally talk like this would cause the exiled Black to descend into brooding. But he kept on.

"But did you see him a lot in his third year?"

Remus was thoughtful, "It was toward the end. He started appearing more and more telling Pomfrey that he was feeling very tired."

"Nothing other than that?"

"No, the fainting started this year"

"So then we have a time frame. Something happened to him between the ending of third year and fourth. But what? He joined his Quidditch team in his second year, so it's not that. Got a new broom last summer, but he loves flying so that wouldn't stress him."

Remus was staring at him incredulously.

"What? I'm listing!"

"Sirius you ran away."

"So? What has that…?" His eyebrows shot up before he shook his head viciously, "That's just…that's just a coincidence. I mean, that little bugger never gave a shi-"

"Sirius, out of curiosity. Was Regulus so hideous at Potions during his second year?"

Sirius mulled it over, "No. Well, it was always challenging for him, but not beyond his abilities. And if he was ever confused with something he'd just come and ask…" he trailed off.

"How _did_ your family take it?"

"I'm blasted off the tapestry"

"I mean them Sirius. How do you think they reacted? You know new boundaries, more rules, harsher punishments?"

Sirius went very still, "You think they're taking it out on him?"

Every muscle was poised, ready to storm down to the dungeons and demand some answers.

Remus swallowed, "Well, I-I don't think they'd physically hurt him Sirius."

Sirius was silent. He knew someone who would. Bellatrix. She'd hurt Regulus to get back at him—to make a point. That had been one of her ploys back in childhood. He doubted she outgrew it.

His eyes narrowed. He needed answers.

* * *

Salem ran a hand through his hair, if it wasn't for Regulus, he'd so be ditching class. But the kid always looked morally offended whenever he suggested it. Even now the kid had stayed behind to ask Flitwick a question.

He filed out of the Charms class and was no sooner out of the door than a hand grabbed his arm.

"Hello, Sirius Black here. I heard you're an exchange student" the Gryffindor fifth-year smiled.

Wand in hand, the fourth year stared at him warily. The Gryffindor had been stalking his brother for the past week, but Regulus was eerily good at slipping into the shadows when he wanted to disappear. Apparently, Sirius had accepted that it was going to be hard to extract answers from such an elusive figure so he'd had to look elsewhere.

Noting the poised wand tip, Sirius grinned, "Now now, no hard feelings about…er…before"

The blond rose an eyebrow disbelieving. He knew himself well enough to know that he wasn't the forgive-and-forget sort.

"Anyways" Sirius continued "You're good friends with Regulus"

"I've barely known him a month."

"Well you two are always hanging out and I was wondering. Has he been feeling poorly for a while?"

"He seems to live from one illness into another"

"And?"

"He won't elaborate. But he acts as though it's normal"

"Has he…uh…shared any reasons for it?"

"We live in a cold, drafty, drippy dungeon"

Before the conversation could go any further, a voice warned:

"Sirius, if you're seeking revenge for that Pettigrew loser, I'm reporting it to Slughorn. And I heard if you get one more Detention for bullying, they're banning you from the next Quidditch match."

Sirius would have told his brother off, if he hadn't caught sight of him.

There Regulus stood emanating an ominously green glow that fluctuated as he moved.

"Wait. Why are you glowing?" he asked perplexed.

"It's my personality. I radiate therefore I am." Regulus deadpanned.

His brother snorted.

"What? Are you saying you don't believe that I am a walking beacon of hope and fortune—spreading sunshine into the lives of all I know."

"No"

"Good. Cause I'd think you were a complete idiot if you said yes. It's a Luminating Hex"

"Oh. I know a counter-curse for it" Sirius offered.

"I'm sure you do, come on Salem. Pince is holding a book for me"

With that the two Slytherins stalked off, the smaller attracting quite a lot of curious stares.

* * *

So Regulus thought he could get away without telling him anything. Well, his brother had another thing coming. He knocked on the door.

It opened

Flashing a brilliant smile Sirius greeted, "Hello Professor Slughorn, I've decided to take you up one of your offers. I think it's time I contributed something back to Hogwarts."

* * *

The morning post arrived right on time; and Archimedes dropped the letter on its owner's plate before nipping his hair and flying off.

Regulus took the envelope, face paling.

Salem watched eyes narrowed, hand poised ready to snatch that letter and find out what the hell was going on.

Then miraculously his brother regained his colour and let out an aggravated sigh. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and gave a suffering glance towards his friend.

"Blech, looks like they're giving me another tutor. Poor soul, he'll never last."

Salem raised an eyebrow, "And why's that?"

"Because I'm hopeless"

"You're not hopeless"

"You're right. I'm stupid. That feels so much better."

"You're not-"

"I'm stupid and cantankerous and when I get frustrated I get violent"

"Poor tutor" Salem agreed.

"Yes, and I'm supposed to meet him after dinner tonight in the library. I guess they're under the delusion that with enough help I might still be able to pass the Potions Exam"

"Regul-"

Regulus gave a wicked grin, "Well it's time I proved them wrong"

With that he downed his drink and stood, ready to face the day.

* * *

Grumbling over his lost evening, Regulus pulled the heavy Potions room door open. He'd been pondering all day over who was going to be assigned to him. It'd left him even more mindless than usual in Potions, and if it wasn't for Salem their potion wouldn't have passed.

There sitting with his back turned, checking a textbook was his tutor. Fairly tall, so that probably made him a sixth or seventh year.

"Do we really need to go through this? I'm sure the other tutors already told you that my chance at passing is dismal. So let's just leave it at that and spare ourselves an array of wasted nights."

"Now Reggiekins that's an awful attitude" the figure swivelled around.

The younger Black's mouth gaped in horror.

"No, no, not you. This isn't fair. You can't-no-have them change it. I will not be tutored by you."

"When _I _was a boy we were grateful when someone came offering their aid without expecting any monetary reward or lamenting over the loss of time" Sirius began patronizingly.

"And in your day you walked fifteen miles in the snow, right"

"Uphill both ways" Sirius grinned. "Now c'mere"

Regulus skulked over the stool beside him,"Do I really have to put up with your irritating short stories on the good ol' days?"

"The word you're looking for is anecdotes and no."

Regulus flushed and glared.

"So…how was your day?"

The younger Black rolled his eyes.

"Hey!" his brother snapped "I'm being civil. Make an effort."

"It was fine. It was perfectly fine."

"I see you figured out the counter-curse."

"Yes, Flitwick warned us the day before about the lesson. I had Pince holding a book for me with the counter-curses."

"Smart."

"Hmm"

"You…you feeling better?"

"It was just a bad cold"

"My foot_**. I've**_ never passed out from a flu bug."

"Well not all of us are like the indomitable Sirius Black"

"How cold _**are**_ the dungeons? I mean if it's that awful you should really tell the Headmaster. I mean you might have pneumonia or something. And if that's the case-"

"Oh stuff it."

"Look I think as the person you collapsed on, I deserve some explanation"

"I don't owe you anything and you know it, Blood Traitor" Regulus hissed.

Sirius stiffened before sighing, "Alright then tell me what you're having trouble with. The ingredients, the order, or the finesse"

Regulus stared for a moment surprised that his brother was actually going to tutor him.

"Everything" he replied softly.

"Alright. We'll start with a simple Sneezing Solution. It'll be easy to know if you've made it right, and it wears off the moment you leave three feet of its vicinity."

He flipped through a few pages and set it down, "now select the ingredients we'll need"

* * *

Sirius trudged up to his dormitory, brushing past Peter who was puzzling over his Charms homework. He threw himself on his bed face-down.

"Any luck?" James asked, putting down his Quidditch magazine.

"Nope" came the muffled response.

"Did the tutoring help?" Remus inquired.

"Don't know. He was always a nervous potions-maker—now he's even worse"

"Were you tormenting him?" Remus asked knowingly.

Sirius glared, "No actually, I was just instructing him"

"Maybe you should just let him go" Peter shrugged "No use getting all frustrated over it."

"Maybe"

"Pete's right. Focus on the good. Tomorrow's the start of Easter Break, we're still on right?"

"My mum wants me home" Peter sighed.

"Don't worry we'll visit some time. How bout you Moony, you spending time with Pads and I?"

"Sounds good."

* * *

"So you're leaving for your home."

"Yes," Regulus answered distractedly as he packed his trunk. "Damn why didn't I realize that today was the start of Easter holiday?"

"I believe you were too busy griping about how your big brother is your new tutor. Which is really tough. I mean, I hear he's pretty stubborn, so your little speeches about spending time in better pursuits aren't going to work."

Salem glanced at the last garment lying on Regulus' bed. He reached for it casually asking, "Any room for boarders?"

"No!" the answer came so abrupt that Salem jerked his hand away from the sweater he was about to touch.

"I-I mean, well, my mother's not-"

"Right. Half-blood. I probably don't meet her standards for her son's perfect friend."

"Huh? Uh, yeah. Som-something like that. At least. At least for right now. See, she's not…really feeling very well. And any visitors who aren't…family…aren't being received too kindly."

Salem offered the sweater and Regulus scowled, "Yellow is not my color."

"Oh? It clashes with your dark poet persona?"

"It does actually. I'm more of a winter."

Salem snorted, "Your birthday's August 6th kid."

Regulus glanced up at him from his trunk, "How? How did you learn when my birthday was?"

Salem started before shrugging a shoulder, "I asked one of those Quidditch players."

"Really? Huh, I never knew they bothered to remember. I always feel like I have to remind them each year. A lot of them can't even spell my name you know."

* * *

Salem waved as Regulus made his way towards the train. Returning to Grimmauld Place would do him so good. He was probably homesick. Reggie had always been a mama's boy; being separated from her was what was causing his anxiety.

He'd be fine. In the mean time, he'd use this break to hound Dumbledore for some answers. With purpose, Salem turned and strode back towards the castle intent on getting some clarity on the situation. While trailing after his brother was interesting, he doubted Reg would provide him with some great answer to preventing James and Lily's murder.

Regulus sighed as he pulled his trunk along. He soon spotted a clump of Slytherins standing near the train. He didn't really feel like joining them, but social etiquette demands adherence.

"Ah, the Prodigal Prince returns to us" Flint sneered.

"What are you blathering about?" Regulus growled irritably. He'd been so busy packing this morning he'd had to skip breakfast and now his stomach was growling.

"A ray of sunshine as usual, hmm?"

"Always"

"I see you managed to tear away yourself away from your new little buddy"

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

Flint shrugged a shoulder, "Well, we hardly ever see you anymore."

"Maybe you're not looking"

"Maybe you haven't been tending your loyalties as well as you ought."

"Maybe you're looking too deep into my actions and fueling your paranoia?"

"No" Flint grinned-sharp teeth bared "One thing I can say without a doubt is that you are one to watch out for. Anyone who can disappear with the ease you do is suspicious."

If it wasn't for the obviously malicious glint in Flint's eyes, Regulus might have felt flattered. (Rarely, did he ever come across as intimidating.) He might have played along if it weren't for the fact that these were dangerous people to toy with.

He'd need some silvery words to smooth this affair. He glanced at the cold, closed faces about him. He had been neglecting his obligations—purposely avoiding them for Salem's sake; who positively despised them. But…this was high society, feelings didn't matter here.

He flashed a dazzling smile, "How sweet, you missed me. And all this time I didn't think you cared."

For a moment the atmosphere lightened, and a few of the Slytherins chuckled-the tenseness beginning to fade.

"We don't-not really" Barty stated flatly "But you could be a lot of trouble if you wanted to be."

"Well it's good that trouble is something I heartily try to avoid"

"Barty makes a very good point—you know an awful lot Regulus. It'd be a shame if that sort of information fell into the wrong hands"

Regulus blinked "You're not saying that my loyalties are questionable?"

"Of course not" Rabastan growled "We're just going to give you a little incentive to keep those loyalties clear."

In a flash his arms were pinned behind him. He heard some cruel chuckles and jeering start.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked desperately trying to sound more amused than fearful.

"Hey! Hey! Wait! No, I haven't done anything. I haven't-" He squeezed his eyes shut. He'd seen Flint winding his fist back. He'd witnessed his Quidditch Captain's cruelty—he'd beaten a Hufflepuff unconscious once just because the kid had scuffed his brand new shoes.

Damn it. Damn. He waited for the blow that was sure to break his nose and mottle his face.

Nothing happened. Nothing. Complete silence.

Cautiously, he opened one eye and found a fist waiting mere centimeters away. He followed the arm to its owner and found Flint's face white—jaw clenched. His eyes boring into him.

But what was causing this? Regulus glance around—everyone was like Flint. Pale, stiff—eyes rolling intensely. Yet they made no sound or movement—to release their obvious frustration. How odd—they stood like a collection of bizarre statues almost as if—

"Any day now ickle Reggiekins" Regulus jerked his head to see Sirius leaning casually against a gate—idly twirling his wand. His friends posed similarly—each possessing that infuriatingly relaxed arrogance.

"Regulus, the spell's not going to last forever"

Regulus glared—he'd almost prefer that beating compared to that smug expression on his brother's visage.

The truth of the matter was that he couldn't leave even if he wanted to.

His brother tapped his foot impatiently, "Fine stay if you want your arse kicked—by all means you probably earned it. I-" Remus elbowed him and gestured toward Regulus—obviously spotting the younger Black's problem.

Sirius stopped, stared, and burst out laughing.

He swaggered over "Whoops!" he offered carelessly "I forgot how wee Ickle Reggiekins is"

Regulus glared from his position, toes not even scuffing the ground from where he hung suspended from one Rabastan Lestrange.

Sirius grinned as he drew near eyeing his brother's misfortune.

"Oh bugger off" Regulus murmured half-heartedly.

Sirius snickered "And leave you to these trolls? They'll squash you."

"I've survived it before" the younger Black gritted. It was true—if there was one thing he could take pride in (as pathetic as it was) it was that Regulus Arcturus Black could take his beatings with dignity.

He expected some retort or a mocking sneer—some sort of 'I'll leave it to you then' or something. But his brother wasn't smiling.

Regulus squirmed slightly—his arms smarting terribly. You know, being hung from your arms was excruciating. That Spanish Inquisition knew what it was doing.

"Well are you going to unfreeze him?" the younger Black demanded.

"No"

Regulus swore angrily.

"So you came just to mock me up close—wanted a front row seat—urgh-how predictable—how bloody predictable and here I thought for once in your life you'd actually help-"

His brother made no reply. He simply reached out and lifted his brother out of his aggressor's grasp.

Regulus flushed—horribly embarrassed—his brother had picked him up like a five-year-old. God it couldn't get any worse.

"Damn kid" Sirius frowned "You forget how to eat? I mean, I thought you were light before our little jaunt to the hospital wing—but now—sheesh"

"I'm fine" Regulus growled "Put me down"

"Whatever"

Regulus straightened his clothes after both feet touched down. He ran a hand through his hair, while trying to discreetly spot his trunk.

"Looking for this" Potter smiled holding up his trunk.

"Yes"

"I've got it."

"Give it here Potter"

"It's fine squirt"

"Yeah, kid don't get your knickers in a twist"

"He doesn't know where I'm going to sit" Regulus pointed out.

"Oh yes he does"

"By God, Sirius, I swear if you stick my trunk on the roof again—so help me I'll-"

"You're sitting with us today. And mind you just today."

Regulus stared at him. "Fine. Stick my trunk to the top of the train. Hell, stick me to the top of the train."

His brother glared, "Quit being so dramatic."

"That's laughable coming from you. Really though, just what was my crime?"

"You know most people would consider this an honor. But if you really feel that way, I'd be happy to set you back in Lestrange's loving arms."

"Enough" Remus intervened "Let's just grab a compartment already"

"Well you heard Moony" Sirius declared grabbing his brother's shoulder and steering him to follow after James.

They arrived in time to find James placing his and Regulus' trunks in the overheard storage.

Regulus sat between the window and his brother, while Lupin sat opposite with Potter. Sirius ended up sitting a bit closer than Regulus liked in order to make room for that Prewett boy.

However when he voiced his complaints, the elder Black threatened the floor or Lupin's lap—since that Gryffindor was used to babysitting crybaby Slytherins.

The argument ended when Lupin angrily stated that he was indeed a Prefect and that yes, he tried to help out Marauder victims. And that if he knew anything about babysitting crybabies, it was because James and Sirius had taught him so much.

Thus, an uneasy silence arose. Regulus drummed his fingers on the window sill wondering just how he ended up here among his least favorite people in the world.

When the smiling witch pushing the candy trolley, stopped by—the boys bought armfuls of sweets—as though their lives depended on it.

Sirius looked towards his brother expectantly. But the younger Black just continued to stare out the window.

"I think the sky will survive losing a moment of your admiration, come buy something"

"Not hungry"

Sirius snorted, "Yeah right. I didn't see you at breakfast. You've got to be starving."

Regulus eyebrows rose startled for a moment before forcefully tacking his composure back in place.

God. Sirius was an irritating one. You know, for his first two years he'd wanted nothing more than his brother's attention; went around desperately vying for it. And now another two years later, where he couldn't care less—where he longed for anonymity—all of a sudden big brother felt like butting into his life.

"No"

"Oh? Planning on just sneaking some of mine huh?"

"No" Regulus returned his view on the scenery rushing by.

The lady left and the loud smacking of adolescent boys gorging themselves on sugar commenced.

"Hey" Sirius poked his brother, noting that in reality—there really wasn't much to poke. "Here."

Regulus glanced at the pumpkin pasty indifferently. Reluctantly he took it and nibbled the sweet.

Conversation began on Quidditch tactics and new rules before switching over to career choices.

Sirius glanced at his brother, half-hoping that the boy was going to jump in or throw an arrogant remark or…something.

But the younger was boy silent, drumming his fingers on the sill again. Pausing every once in awhile to marvel at the first three finger nails on his left hand.

Still Sirius decided, he was here, and that was better than nothing.

Spying the two more empty pastry wrappers near his brother, Sirius grinned and swiped a Pumpkin pasty from Peter's stash.

"Here have another"

"I'm full"

"It's just one more"

"I said I'm full" Sirius looked at him disbelievingly.

There was a time when Reg could've eaten dinner, desert, and then seven pasties and still been eager for more. That's how the two of them had spent one New Years, having an eating contest. Needless to say, their parents had not been impressed.

"Eat it"

"I don't want eat it"

"Regulus I've fed you before and you can't possibly be worse at fourteen than you were at two."

"I'm almost fifteen" His brother snorted "And I hated spaghetti and you knew it."

Sirius' lips twitched, "So you do remember"

"Of course I do. You traumatized me. I still hate that pasta. I shiver every time I pass an Italian Restaurant."

"You normally play off that you can't recall."

"Yes for the sake of my dignity in public."

"Well come on, put some meat on your bones" the elder Black insisted.

Regulus swiped the sweet from his brother's hand, "I'll have it later alright?"

He stuffed it in his pocket, he probably would too. He glanced up to notice Potter's eye scrutinizing him.

Regulus almost smiled. It was clear Potter wasn't used to being second fiddle in Sirius' list of priorities. If Regulus wasn't so sure that it was more his brother's curiosity than concern, he might have been touched.

Satisfied that his brother was taken care of, Sirius quickly engaged his friends in a recount of one of his recent detentions.

Regulus returned his gaze outside, and returned to his contemplations on what awaited him at home. More than a little worried and tired from weeks of restless sleeping, Regulus' heavy lids fell.

* * *

"God it's just like him to fall asleep against me—how irritating—how am I supposed to play now?" Sirius whined.

"We'll bring the board closer to you" James suggested.

"Such a nuisance"

"James switch with Peter" Remus offered.

"B-but I wanted to play and all my stuff's here" Peter's watery blue eyes begging entreaty.

"You switch with me" Sirius demanded.

"I-I don't think so"

"Come on Remus—you're just reading—it won't be that much an obstruction. He's really light anyway"

"But you just said" Remus groaned running his fingers through his hair in exasperation. He leaned forward to ensure only Sirius heard him.

"Do you really feel secure leaving your baby brother with a werewolf?"

"Absolutely. He's bound to safer with you than anyone else. Did you know that Bella tried to trick him into exploring the boiler room? He was four."

Effectively silenced, Remus allowed himself to be guided into his new seat.

"Set?"

Remus nodded reluctantly. Sirius grinned and set his brother carefully against his friend.

"I still don't get why we didn't just wake him up" Peter confided.

"Cause he looked dead on his feet" James answered as he began dealing cards.

* * *

As the train came to stop, Regulus yawned and blinked tiredly. He was leaning against something, or rather someone. He looked up at the person who muttered a sheepish 'hello' and leapt back, hitting his head hard against the window.

Swearing beneath his breath, he clutched at the back of skull.

"This-wha-I-I"

"Sorry for the swap, but earlier Sirius wanted to play Snap. He didn't want to wake you up—you looked like you needed the rest"

Regulus said nothing, trying to regain the tatters of his composure—God, it was embarrassing enough to snooze against his brother but really sleeping against a total stranger—how humiliating!

"They're off changing" Remus offered helpfully. "How's your head? It sounded like you made pretty hard contact."

"I'm fine" he growled, which wasn't quite true—because tears had sprung to his eyes. And knowing his luck lately, he probably had a concussion.

The door to their compartment slid open. Regulus dropped his hand to his side, he'd rather avoid questions about why he was clutching his head. His brother had been a little too adept in monitoring him lately. And he didn't want to add more fuel to the fire.

"Hey Sleeping Beauty has awoke—you better not have done anything questionable Moony"

"What? Ugh, don't even-" Remus shook his head in disgust.

Sirius grinned; laughing at his brother's blissfully confused expression. Thankfully, his brother had no knowledge of muggle fairytales.

"You feeling any better kid?"

"I'm fine"

"Riight"

Reaching up Sirius grabbed the trunks from storage, handing each to their owners.

Once he had his belongings, Regulus swiftly left the compartment—eager to be away from the marauders.

Regulus sighed as he descended the train; he had quite a trek to start on. However, he hadn't walked more than two steps when a hand clapped on his shoulder.

"Alright. So where's the battle ax?"

"Huh?"

"You know, Mummy Dearest" Sirius cringed.

"She-well she can't make it today"

Sirius stared—Walburga _**always**_ came to pick Regulus up from Hogwarts—the two times she hadn't Sirius had been obligated to ride the Knight Bus with him.

"…Alright then. Who am I looking for?"

"What?"

"Who's picking you up?"

"What do you care? Potter's waving you over"

"Huh-Oh right. I gotta g-wait a minute-you didn't answer."

"I'll get home on my own"

"Knight Bus?"

"Mmm"

"I'll walk you over"

"That isn't necessary" Regulus backpedaled. Stupid, he thought, why didn't you just say you were waiting for Cissa or something?

The truth was—he couldn't go home on the Knight Bus—Lestrange had earned the lot of them a ban for life. The niffler he nicked caused mayhem—apparently a handful of passengers had lost coins through the floorboards and into the engine. It'd taken a good deal of money and apology from his mother to keep the blemish form going on his records. God. His ears rung whenever he thought about it.

"Now you've got your wand ready, right? Because you know they have to see it before you board."

Sirius waved at someone who Regulus could only assume was Mrs. Potter, a slightly plump witch with bright hazel eyes, and dark curls. She was currently hugging James and beamed at Sirius. The light caught on her diamond ring. Not half as big as their mother's. Probably wasn't even real.

Sirius mouthed 'Knight Bus' and indicated his brother. The woman nodded and gave a little wave to Regulus.

Regulus scowled. He despised her already. People who wear their emotions on their sleeve are despicable. Blood traitors.

Regulus pulled his robes closer as brisk air greeted them outside the station. The Knight Bus was already parked at the curb.

"Hey good timing" Sirius smiled noting the short line of students already boarding. "Oi Mckennon!" One boy with light brown hair turned.

"Hey Black! Looking for to the holiday?"

"Wish it was longer"

"You and me both"

Regulus scuffed a shoe against the pavement. His brother needed to leave immediately or he was going to need some distraction in order to slip away.

Thankfully the former seemed imminent as McKinnon boarded the bus and disappeared inside.

"Alright" Sirius began awkwardly "I guess…er…well…have a…Happy Easter kid"

Regulus gave a mechanical nod. His brother stood uncomfortably before him for a beat more, before turning on his heel and leaving.

"Present your wand—oh-it's you" the driver noted, clearly remembering the…incident.

Regulus smirked. "No worries, I'm not going to grace you with my presence today."

The young Slytherin hefted his cage and trunk and pulled out of the line.

"Hey, kid. If you really need a ride…" the gruff driver trailed off.

Regulus pursed his lips; a Black does not accept hand outs.

"I'll be fine" he announced and walked away, nose held as high as he could manage.

* * *

Sirius glanced about the restaurant. Mrs. Potter was getting them a reservation, he overheard the greeter say it would take about an hour.

Bugger. He was really hungry, he was about to gripe when he noticed a familiar face enter through the doors.

"McKinnon! It's been so long"

His fellow Gryffindor grinned, "Yeah, almost half an hour. God that Ernie drives like a maniac."

"Heh, how was Regulus? My brother sulking like the lil' Slytherin he is?"

"Huh?"

"You know. Regulus—smaller, shrimpier, meaner version of yours truly"

"The-the Slytherin Seeker right?" the boy inquired uncertainly.

"…yeah"

"You two are related?"

"What planet are you from McKinnon? Didn't you ever think it odd that we share half of our names? Come on, what other family names their brats after constellations?"

"Sorry, I just-well, you never really act-" he cleared his throat "I didn't see him."

"What?"

"I didn't see him Sirius-but maybe he was on the upper level"

"Regulus always sits on the left second window bed"

"Well I didn't see him"

"You had to have seen him" Sirius persisted. "You boarded right before him"

"Well, I don't know what to tell you Black, the bus left without him"

Sirius rushed over to where James and Remus were making a salt and pepper shaker castle.

"Prongs, we gotta go"

"What? Why?"

"My brother"

"What about him?"

"I don't know where he is"

"Pads he's on the-"

"McKinnon didn't see him there."

"Well maybe he decided to floo" Remus reasoned.

"He hates floo-doesn't like ash fraying his robes"

"I'm sure he's-"

"We'll take a drive" Mrs. Potter declared walking up (all mothers have that innate ability to detect distress), and resting a comforting hand on Sirius' shoulder. "If he's along the way, we'll pick him up and take him home."

* * *

First they drove back to the station, but Regulus was no where to be found. Then they drove full speed to Grimmauld, but no one answered the door.

Then they wove in and out of London city, but to no avail.

By this time, Sirius' imagination was starting to produce all sorts of horrible ends that might have befallen his brother. Worse, he was starting to share them and now even James looked more than a little worried.

"-and then what if they use one of those horrible metal wands-"

"-a gun" Remus supplied.

"Right, and you know he won't know what it is—and he'll probably try to laugh it off or something and then they'll pull the-"

"Mum! There he is!" James called.

To Sirius' astonishment, there his brother was: walking—tired, sweating, panting with the effort, but blissfully safe and whole—dragging his trunk along the ground—the grating sound clearly irritating passersby.

His brother feigned indifference to their glares and continued right along his way, pausing only to readjust the cage beneath his arm, and push his sweaty bangs aside.

"He's walking" Sirius gaped.

"Nice observation Pads" Sirius glared and punched James in the arm before turning back to his window and rolling it down.

"Regulus!" No response. "Regulus!!" Nothing. "REGULUS ARCTURUS BLACK what on earth are you doing?"

Funnily enough, it came out so naturally, he didn't notice his friends' eyebrows shoot up. Sirius had sounded so much like his mother just then—it was eerie.

Still, it had the desired effect. Regulus immediately stiffened and looked about.

When his eyes snagged on the source, he frowned, and trudged over.

"What?" he demanded irritably.

Sirius' brows furrowed "Don't you dare get huffy; if anyone should be pissed it's me. You lied to me."

Regulus said nothing.

"You LIED." Sirius repeated. He groaned and opened the door "Get in"

"No"

"Now"

"No"

"Regulus. Get. In. The. Car."

Mrs. Potter rolled her window down "we'll take you home dear"

Regulus contemplated his shoes—he didn't really want to walk, but accepting aid from blood traitors…was that allowed?

Sirius decided to make the choice for him—grabbing his trunk and cage and stuffing them in the car.

"I guess I'm riding" Regulus stated flatly.

Sirius moved into the middle seat and Regulus reluctantly closed the car door.

"So?"

"So"

"Well?" Sirius prompted.

"Well what?"

"Why did you lie to me?"

Regulus shrugged, "I don't know."

"Bullocks"

"Sirius" Mrs. Potter warned.

"Sorry" Sirius apologized.

Regulus stared. His brother never apologized to their parents. Or him. Ever. And here to these traitors he acted polite and…and… A flash of hate seized him so powerfully, that for one moment he thought he was going to tear at his brother's face.

"You tell me this instant what possessed you lie through your teeth to me! God Regulus. Wandering around London. Sunset's less than an hour away. You know how dangerous it can be in broad daylight."

"No, don't you dare presume to lecture me on integrity and risk. You are such a bloody hypocrite. How you can bare your own skin, is amazing."

"You little insect—ungrateful little bugger."

"Filth! Scum!"

"Git!"

"Worthless waste of space!"

"Brainless little puppet"

"Pathetic disloyal fool"

"Wait!" came Remus surprisingly harsh shout from the front seat. He turned leaned over buckled Regulus in. "Alright, continue"

Regulus flushed, "Er…thanks."

Remus waved it aside, "Don't want to get Mrs. Potter a ticket"

"Boys" Mrs. Potter's soft but cool voice said firmly "No more of that. I do not tolerate such arguing in my car."

"Yes, ma'am"

"Sorry to be an inconvenience"

"Not at all dear. You know you just gave your brother a scare. Now it's alright that you chose not to go on the Bus, but you really should've notified Sirius. Or called a cab or something. I'm sure your mother wouldn't be pleased to know her son-"

"I'm sorry a what?"

"A cab dear"

Regulus cocked his head to the side clearly thinking _what in the hell was she talking about?_

Sirius groaned "See? This is the sort of naivety I was talking about. God Regulus." He was silent for a moment and then blurted, "Regulus, you do know what a gun is right?"

Regulus looked momentarily caught off-guard by the bizarre question, "It's…it's one of those funny metal wands right? Right?" He looked to Remus, who nodded solemnly.

Satisfied with his answer, Regulus settled back into his seat and eyed his brother smugly.

Sirius rolled his eyes, "You know what it does right?"

"Spits a little metal ball, or so I've heard"

"Well it's dangerous"

"Duh, and that's why it's listed as a Muggle weapon, Sirius. Bella told me about them."

Sirius let out an exasperated sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

"I think-"

"You don't think at all Potter" Regulus snapped.

"We don't have to help you, you know" James retorted.

"James" came Mrs. Potter stern tone. She smiled gently at Regulus, "We're here, dear."

Regulus felt a slight smile tug the edges of his lips against his will, "Thank you for your aid Ma'am. You've saved me quite a walk. I'm very grateful."

"Anytime, Regulus. If you ever need a ride just ask. The streets of London just aren't safe for a boy your age to wander around in."

The younger Black nodded as he undid his safety belt. After gathering his possessions he gave one final thank you to Mrs. Potter and exited the car.

Seeing that his brother wanted to say something he quickly slammed the car door. But the elder Black wasn't to be deterred and quickly rolled down the window.

"This discussion isn't over" Sirius declared pointing at him for emphasis.

Regulus rolled his eyes and trudged up the stone steps leading to his house.

He pulled the great iron key from his pocket and placed it in the lock. All the while, conscious that Mrs. Potter's car had yet to pull away. Only when he was safely inside did the woman wave and drive off.

Regulus sighed as he closed the great door. What a weird day.

"Master?"

Regulus smiled, "Greetings Kreacher. I'm home."

"Kreacher is glad to see the young master" the servant bowed.

"And how fares Mother?"

The elf looked aside, "The Mistress is still unwell. She doesn't leave her bed and she holds many conversations."

Regulus smirked, "She talking your ear off?"

"Not talking to me Master"

Regulus froze, "Well than…who _**is**_ she speaking with?"

"Kreacher is sure he doesn't know sir."

"Right" Regulus swallowed uneasily. "Right. Well. But she's still eating alright?"

"Yes Master."

"G-good. Good." He finished more resolutely—trying to force some reassurance in his voice. "We knew mother wasn't feeling well. She just needs more rest. She's probably just sleep-talking. You were probably mistaken."

"Of course Master" though the house-elf looked decidedly doubtful.

"I'll leave you to my trunk then, I've got some nasty mud stains on my cloak. Sorry, I fear I was careless, but I do think they'll come out."

"Master?" the house-elf inquired almost hesitantly "there are letters for the young master. On the desk."

Regulus nodded grimly. He knew there would be. After all, they were starting to show up even at school.

Regulus walked down the corridor, unease mounting. He opened Orion's office with trepidation. Even now months after his father's unsuccessful flight, the room felt alien.

He and Sirius were rarely admitted in here unless for admonishment. The feeling of trespassing had yet to pass—even though, as Kreacher had assured him, he was the new master now, and the entirety of the house was his.

He sighed as he sat at his father's desk. The chair was too big, seeming like a perfect symbol of how this job—being head of house—was simply too great for the likes of him.

With a shuddering breath, he noted the great pile of papers covering the desk and began opening the envelopes. Bills….deadlines…demands for compensations--for payouts…damn….damn it.

Regulus had been checking their accounts and records, going through their gargantuan filing cabinets over and over again. He kept praying it was some sort of mistake. But he knew…knew it several months ago, that the House of Black was in a financial crisis.

A majority of his father's investments had flopped—an unpleasant detail the man had kept to himself. Shortly after his incarceration his few successful deals deteriorated—somehow people doubt the integrity of criminals. Go figure.

His eyes scanned the final letter and barely stifled a gasp. The parchment fell from his quivering fingers. The statement Gringotts sent was causing cold perspiration to stream down his face. Was there really that little left?

TBC

_Imperio_: Read and Review! When you don't it makes Reggie feel unloved.


	5. Easter Interludes

Disclaimer: I do not own the HP universe-that's J.K. Rowling's.

AN: Yes. I have been a lazy cauldron bum. But here's the next chapter. I know you guys liked me for having long chapters, but for my own sake I'm going to shorten them down. By doing so, I can have more updates more often. -

Anyways, what I'm trying to say—Yes, I have not abandoned this fic.

It looks like Reggie's in quite a spot of trouble, and he's being pretty close-lipped about it.

Chapter 5

* * *

_**Dear Journal,**_

_**My brother keeps going on and on about his new friends. He acts like they're the best, most fun people ever. And that they're really smart. That doesn't mean a lot to me. Bella's the smartest person I know. She knows the most curses and spells out of everyone. And from personal experience, I find smart and mean go together.**_

_**Dear Journal,**_

_**I don't know what's happening but Siri isn't writing so much anymore. He must be really busy with schoolwork. Now, I'm really bored. It's bad enough that I'm stuck at home while he's out having fun. But now we can't gang up and prank the tutor anymore. Not to mention that this latest one is the worst. He's boring me to death with all the history facts. Blech!**_

_**Dear Journal,**_

_**My brother finally wrote again. And it was the shortest message ever. It basically said to stop calling him Siri. That it's childish. I guess that Potter kid saw it and teased him. I don't get what the big deal is. He's always been Siri and I'm Reggie. That was the other weird thing. The note was to: Regulus. No one calls me that 'cept Aunt Druella 'cause she's stuffy.**_

Salem sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He almost didn't want to continue. It was rough. He was practically watching his brother's opinion of him sink. But alas, this was the most convenient time to read. There was no fear of Regulus catching him and asking pointed questions.

He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. It had always been so easy, to say that Reggie didn't understand what his life was like. And it was true; Reg didn't see the cruelty of the Black's family's ways. He didn't see how unfair their prejudices were. But to be fair, Sirius never quite grasped life from his brother's view either. All the intricate etiquette of the elite never made an impression on him.

So realizing that he was never going to fit in, Sirius simply chose to rebel—hard. He downed their heritage, insulted the relatives, purposely caused havoc whenever he could. Not the innocent little pranks, he and Reg played when they were younger. The malicious sort.

It all wound up screaming: I don't want to be a Black!

Funny, you know, his punk attitude was really aimed at their parents. But it looked like Regulus got the full blast of it.

He seemed to have noticed Sirius' growling coldness immediately…and took it personally. And why not? Reg pretty much embodied everything that he'd never be.

_**Dear Journal,**_

_**Tonight was my first Halloween without Siri—excuse me Sirius—it felt weird. I dressed up as a vampire. I looked great. Everyone said so. Mum, and Dad, and I went to a party and everyone said I looked "formidable." Even Uncle Alphard said I was a great vampire; I was surprised he talked to me. (I always thought Siri-no-Sirius was his favorite.)**_

A few more entries followed, more wonderings about a wayward brother and curiosity: whether the staircases really changed or had trick steps, whether the ceiling in the Great Hall really looked like the sky, whether there really was a dragon in the dungeons that ate a Slytherin every year.

_**Dear Journal, **_

_**I just can't figure it out. If the letters are anything to go by, then I just don't know where my brother is. I'm almost afraid of who Hogwarts is going to send back. It's only been three and half months since I've seen Sirius, but he sounds so different in his letters. He's always boasting about his friends and complaining about our family. Sheesh who complains at Christmas time? It's my favorite time of year. All of our family's getting together. Hopefully, the festivity will cheer Siri up. I just love Christmas. **_

Salem sighed. He hadn't gone home that year. Much to his mother's outrage, he'd opted to stay at Hogwarts with James and Remus. They'd had a blast. In fact, he had such a good time, he hadn't thought about Reg at all except to send his gift off.

Still, Salem tried to justify himself, Reg loved family get-togethers—everyone always cooed over the youngest Black—last male heir sporting the family name. He probably had a great time. In fact, the next page was probably brimming with good ventures.

Oh, the next page was brimming with something alright, but it wasn't yuletide jolliness.

There was only one line scrawled messily across the page: _**I hate Christmas.**_

Salem noted with distress, the great blotches of tears that stained the message. And smears of something that looked uncannily like blood. He flipped through several pages, but no explanation was offered. He checked and rechecked and tapped his wand but to no avail. Whatever had occurred that Christmas, Regulus took it with him to the grave.

Salem gasped slightly at the way the thought hit him.

It was hard to think that someone who he'd talked to a few days ago was dead. Cold dead. Been dead for nearly twenty years.

As far as he knew Reggie had no grave. Well…he had a plot and a marker but…he'd overheard some Death Eaters say they never recovered his body. They'd chuckled, saying it obviously meant there wasn't enough of him left after the Dark Lord was through with him.

In spite of his deeply rooted grudges, Sirius prayed they were wrong. After all, Reggie was as cunning as they came, if anyone could think a way out of his death, it'd be his brother.

It was later that night that he took out a very old two way mirror. One that he'd owned long before Hogwarts. He whispered his brother's name to it. Nothing but darkness responded.

Or the times when he was sitting in Azkaban, and his mind kept playing their last words to each other.

"_Trust you? Trust you Sirius? How on earth could I manage that?"_

"_So you're just going to throw your life away?"_

There was silence and then _"Goodbye brother"_

And all he could say was: _"You're no brother of mine"_

And he was reported dead later that week and the words kept repeating over and over in his mind. The dementers enjoyed taunting him with that one.

Awful words that tasted like ash every time he thought of them.

"Sirius?"

Salem jumped up and nearly knocked into the half-moon spectacled face of the headmaster.

"Sorry to give you a start" Dumbledore smiled.

"N-no, I just" Salem shook his head and cleared his throat "It's nothing, just thinking"

The elderly man smiled and beckoned him forth, "I think our conversation should continue in my office.

Salem nodded and quickly pocketed the diary.

"You would be justified in feeling lost, alone, and out-of-place. But I ask that you take comfort in knowing that you are not the first to fall through seams in the fabric of time."

"Cut to the chase. Does it normally end well?"

"It's difficult to say. Some content themselves with their new lives. Others try to return to their original life. And others…get caught in a loop."

"A loop?"

"More or less. It's proper name is Chronos Oroborosem. It's where an individual becomes 'locked' in to a certain era. They go through the same motions over and over again. A sort of spiraling trap one never escapes save death."

"Cheery prospect. Let me guess, those who try to return to their time normally wind up in one."

"Tragically so. But let us not dwell on pasts and futures. Let's focus on the present. I hear from Professor Binns, you're a little rusty on your history" he smiled.

They met daily, but the headmaster never asked on news of the future, though Salem was bursting to share his precious information.

Instead Dumbledore inquired to how Salem was settling down, whether his fellow housemates were accepting him, did he think they should serve more raspberry jam at breakfast?

"Dumbledore, what do you think about Regulus A. Black?"

The elderly man paused a moment, pushed up his glasses and sighed.

"Ahh, yes. Your brother. Quite a mysterious figure. Rather silent and brooding in most of his classes—I fear that has put him at odds with several professors, but Mysterio counters their claims most emphatically. A very gifted seeker. I'd dare say a Charms Master. A very frail constitution. And a seemingly irrational fear of potion-making."

"Fear? No, it's just incompetence."

"Is it?"

Salem closed his mouth, his brow furrowing—but what could his brother have to fear from brewing a drought?

"But what could he be afraid of? And why are you so sure?"

"I monitored the third years' Potions Exam last year, as Mr. Avery was so unfortunate as to need Professor Slughorn's aid in combating serious spider venom. We have some very potent arachnids in the forest. One of the reasons why the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to students." At this he gave Salem a stern look.

"Anyway, as I watched the students brewing, I couldn't help but notice that young Mr. Black had gone terribly pale."

"Well, what was wrong?"

"I don't know, he refused to think about it, fumbled through his drought and fled the chamber. It was most disconcerting. I've tried to broach the subject several times, but to no avail."

Salem was silent for a few moments, struggling with a question that had been burning within him for a while.

"Is he worth the time I'm spending with him? Is he good?" All this time that he was investing with his brother, was it all worth it? Or was it only going to cause more pain when Regulus followed the Dark Lord to his death.

"Is anyone? I fear at birth no one is simply labeled Good or Bad. Regulus will be what he chooses to be. And in the end he will decide what is right for him."

"Well I don't want him to choose wrong"

"Sirius, what he does with his life is his-"

"I don't want him choosing wrong again."

"What is meant to be, will be Sirius"

"…He's not all bad, for a Slytherin. I mean…he's not out saving kittens from trees and putting out burning orphanages, but…he's not…I don't want…I-I just…Dumbledore, do you think…I was sent back for a reason?"

"You enter dangerous territory Sirius."

"Yes, time loops" he waved a dismissive hand "But still, isn't that danger worth it, if it means that my actions could spare countless innocent lives?"

"Ahh, a Gryffindor at heart."

Salem stood, "I-I need some time alone."

"Understood"

He was almost out the door when Dumbledore stated, "Sirius, remember this. Being sly or cunning is not an evil trait. Ambition is not the same as greed. And knowing who your real friends are proves essential in times of crisis."

* * *

He lay dreaming of sunflowers and blood. The petals drowning in the crimson liquid as it rained in torrents blotting out all light. The blossoms wilted—buckled under the weight. And soon all the world was red. And in the midst of all the bloodshed, someone was laughing.

Regulus woke drenched in sweat. And he jerked back as he noted the two large eyes.

"Kreacher is sorry that he startled the young Master. But Master told Kreacher to wake him early."

Regulus swallowed, trying to regain his composure, "Yes. Thank you Kreacher"

He shuffled down the hallway and quietly opened the door to his parents' bedroom. All was silent. Good. His mother hadn't woken yet.

He closed the door shut and crept back to his room.

After a brief shower, he dressed and made his way to the kitchen.

He spent the morning at the table with the Daily Prophet with a pair of scissors close at hand. Mother would cringe if she saw what he was doing. Cutting out coupons…like a commoner.

He sighed as he gathered the slips of paper and stuffed them in his wallet. Ugh, it burned.

He walked over to the hall closet and fetched his travelling cloak. He slipped it on before suddenly stopping and resting his forehead against the wall.

God it all seemed so hopeless. Anyone with any influence would soon realize that the Black Family was in shambles.

Still, if nothing else he needed to keep up the charade. And just maybe he could last long enough. His father could straighten everything when he was finally released. Until then he just had to endure.

He took a deep breath and left for the outside world—ready to face it and all its treacheries.

* * *

God and he thought the time he walked through Diagon Alley with a frog in his pocket was awkward.

Somehow the reality of having only twelve sickles in his pocket left him feeling rather vulnerable. He definitely wouldn't be eating out today.

As he made his way, he discreetly checked the displays for any of the items he'd seen on the coupons he had tucked away.

Ugh, window shopping. How the mighty had fallen. Regulus sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets.

He reluctantly entered Fluorish and Blotts. He had to get more parchment for school, unless he wanted to bum some off of Snape. He shook his head, a Black having to ask for help…it was disgraceful.

When he'd selected his purchase he shuffled towards the cashier.

"Charge it to the Black tab" Regulus mumbled. The wizard stared at him. The Blacks always paid in hard coins. Always. Regulus raised his eyes, daring the man to question him. The man quickly looked back down and bagged the item.

Regulus took his bag and left the shop, trying to suppress the shame he was feeling.

With his head held high, he walked out of Diagon Alley and towards Borgin and Burkes.

He didn't make it far.

"Ahh, young Regulus Black." a voice drawled.

The boy stiffened in recognition. "Lucius Malfoy" he stated without turning.

A firm hand rested on his shoulder, "Let's take a walk, shall we?" He was redirected back towards Diagon Alley.

The two strolled in silence before coming to a stop in front of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. He motioned to the iron stairs leading up towards the balcony.

Once there, Lucius smiled, "Perhaps we should go somewhere more private." He indicated to another flight of stairs "You know, where we can discuss more delicate matters."

Regulus very reluctantly followed him up to the roof. He had the distinct feeling of what it must feel like to be a lamb before the slaughter. Or maybe a fly duped into a spider's lair.

"We won't be bothered here" Lucius announced pleasantly, his tailored boots clacking harshly on the concrete surface.

Regulus suppressed a sigh. You know he'd really been hoping that the day would go smoothly.

"You know" Lucius started suddenly "until precisely two and a half months ago, I was unaware that Rostings was a legitimate surname endowed with the prestige of possible Pureblood relations. I find that troubling don't you? Being brought up in houses such as ours, we have extensive knowledge of our fellow Pureblood lines. And yet there is no trace of a wizard known as Salem Rostings."

Regulus shrugged a shoulder, "Perhaps he changed it."

"And why should he do that? What does he have to hide?"

The young Black released a mirthless laugh, "Really Lucius, don't even broach that subject. Rumor has it, Malfoy Manor possesses a secret room for all your controversial materials. Unless you can stand before me and shed light on all your skeletons, I'm not going to begrudge him his."

The man's lips pursed and his nostrils flared but he made no response.

"Or…" Regulus hesitated, taking a breath "Or it's quite possible he's illegitimate. Whatever the case, it's his tale to tell. He's given me no reason to suspect him of dark intentions."

"How trusting of you, or should I say…how naïve."

"Have you any other reason for gracing me with your presence?" Regulus sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose. Lucius was a person he could only take in small doses. He'd never understand why Cissy favored him.

"As you already know, Narcissa and I are engaged to be married. She's quite fond of you. I am simply doing my duty as her husband-to-be and seeing to it that her favourite cousin remains unscathed."

"Oh really."

"It's a dangerous world out there, boy. It would be in your best interest to have some powerful allies."

"I'm sure it will also cost a hefty price."

"Not at all. See, it's also reached our attention that a certain Sirius Black has been badgering you."

"Ugh, that oaf! He and scummy friends just won't leave me be."

Lucius smiled.

"What?"

"Just glad to see you haven't softened your opinion of that filthy blood traitor. Bella and Cissa were worried."

Regulus eyed him curiously, "Was that some sort of test?"

He felt oddly used. Being monitored for his every feeling. God, like he was the one to worry about when Cissy was marrying a snake, and Bella had joined fellow lunatics.

Lucius patted him on the head, "Just reaffirming where your loyalties lie. I'll send a doctor to treat your mother later tonight."

Regulus gasped and turned back around, but his future cousin had already Apparated away.

How did he? Maybe Grimmauld Place wasn't as preciously guarded as his father intended. If that was the case, he needed to put up some more wards. Immediately.

He pulled out his special galleon—a two headed one Sirius had found back in their childhood.

He flipped the coin high, reached out his hand, and snatched it from the air—instantly vanishing from the rooftop and heading back to Grimmauld.

* * *

The Maruaders' Easter had been quite enjoyable. They divided their time between playing Quidditch and gorging themselves on chocolate eggs.

It had been on a whim that they travelled to Diagon Alley.

Remus naturally spent a good hour in Flourish and Blotts before they dragged him out. James and Sirius marvelled at the new shipments in Quality Quidditch Supplies; enthusiastically examining new gloves and goggles. They both left with new equipment and a lightened mood; eager for Gryffindor's next match.

James grinned at his best mate. It seemed like it'd been ages since he'd seen Sirius in such a good mood. Ever since Regulus had started entering the scene, Sirius' anxiety had escalated.

It almost made him wonder if he should try convincing Sirius to just drop the kid and focus on his own life. An ominous sense of gloom seemed to be hanging over the Black Family lately, and he didn't want Sirius getting caught up in it.

"We're going to win the House Cup" James announced cheerfully "I can feel it. It'll be the perfect occasion."

"For what?"

"For asking Lily out…again."

Remus rolled his eyes and stopped in his tracks.

"What's wrong Moony?"

For a moment Remus faltered, James glanced at him in concern. Remus bit his lip and cautiously glanced at Sirius.

"What is it?"

Normally he'd ignore the kid, since Sirius seemed to loathe him. But lately…

"Is that Regulus on top of that building?" Remus pointed. Sirius whipped around.

Sure enough there was his younger brother. And judging from the kid's gesticulations he wasn't alone.

"Let's just see what he's up to" Sirius declared.

"You know Pads, stalking your brother just isn't at the top of my to-do list. Now, if you'd like to stalk Evans then I'm with you."

"I know he's up to something"

"Pads" James protested but his friend was already making his way towards the building.

At breakneck speed Sirius began clambering up the stairs with the marauders close behind.

Finally making it up to the roof, Sirius slammed the door open but-

"He's gone," Peter stated in astonishment from under his arm.

"He can't be" Sirius muttered coming out of the doorway and exploring the area

"We just came up the only staircase leading out here. We'd have seen him. There's no way he can just disappear. He's too young to Apparate" James argued.

Sirius hesitantly glanced off the side of the building, "O-okay. Not there either."

Noticing his friends' stares, he shrugged, "I-I was just checking"

Remus' eyes narrowed as he thought aloud, "Disappearing without a trace. Without a noise. Without a penalty from the Ministry. Sirius?"

The elder Black glanced at him uncertainly.

"Regulus, he's good at charms, right?"

"I suppose so"

"How good?"

"Always got Os in that class. It just always got kinda overshadowed by the Ps in Potions."

Remus nodded, contemplatively. He wasn't ready to voice his theory, knowing how absurd it sounded: after all, what would a fourth-year know about making portkeys?

TBC

Read and Review


	6. The Strain of Brotherhood

Disclaimer: I do not own the HP universe--that's J.K. Rowling's.

AN: Thank you for your reviews. I forgot to say that in the last chapter. flush They inspire me to continue this fic.

For any who did NOT read my last remark. I reiterate: my chapters are going to be shorter from now on (unless I feel pretty darned inspired). Sorry, if that's disappointing. However, I should finally be able to update more quickly. Huzzah!

And now Mush!!

Chapter 6

* * *

Sirius sighed as he stood outside the Hogwarts Express. The Easter Holiday was far too short in his opinion.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. Due to Mrs. Potter's devoted sense of punctuality they'd arrived an hour early. They'd already shoved their stuff into the overhead storage a while back.

He hated moments like these, where there was nothing to do but wait. It allowed his thoughts to wander.

It seemed like he'd been pondering over his enigma of a brother for ages. And he didn't feel any closer to an answer than before.

He couldn't exactly visit Grimmauld unless he had a death wish.

And he didn't feel welcome enough to send an owl. He wasn't sure how he'd feel if his letter was sent back unopened.

Funny, because he used to do that all the time to Regulus a few years back.

Back when Reg was a first year (besides border line stalking him) the kid sent him loads of mail. He'd gotten a letter or three over breakfast almost every day. It'd been horrid embarrassing to say the least. Filled with stupid kiddie stuff, like how weird the staircases were and how he got top marks for his Charms Essay. And did Sirius like Potions? Because he found it icky.

And then the worse part of all, how it was always signed "Love Reggie." His classmates had teased him mercilessly for weeks. Everyone calling him Big Brother Black and then asking how his little shadow was?

So he'd started sending them back unopened and eventually they stopped.

He hadn't thought much of it until one morning on the last day of school the prior year (before his disownment), he'd received a letter addressed to him in fancy looping handwriting he didn't recognize.

_**Sirius**_

_**Mother's busy. We're riding the Knight Bus home.**_

_**R.A.B.**_

And that was it. No "Dear Brother" "Hey Siri" or a generic "Greetings." There were no pleasantries, no anecdotes, no nothing. He didn't even get a "Sincerely Yours." Damn. The kid didn't even waste his time writing his name out.

Sirius sighed and stared at his shoes. There was no one he could really share this with either. He'd made such a fuss about being independent. That his brother was a weight to cast off. And now Regulus saw him in the same light.

What else had he been expecting? That Reg's hero-worship would last forever? That little brother would always end up forgiving him his transgressions and he'd ignore their differences. That they could just patch everything up with a little candy and tossing a quaffle back and forth. Guess those days were over.

Sirius sighed again and studied his mates. James was still moping over Evans. Apparently she'd returned the Easter present along with a howler. Sirius had been curious to the contents but James wasn't sharing.

Remus was, as usual, pouring over a textbook. And Peter, well, he appeared to be battling with his trunk. Apparently unaware that his trunk had a limit to how much junk you could toss in them.

And so, there was really nothing to do but watch the station clock ticking away.

He was on the verge of offering an organizing charm, when a familiar figure came into view.

His brother was hefting his trunk with a rather disgruntled expression.

It probably wasn't a good time to visit, the time to depart was nearing and his brother would be preoccupied with finding a seat but…who knew when he'd bump into him?

Regulus had a talent for avoiding him. Something he hadn't found bothersome until now.

Cautiously he approached his brother while the latter was busy fiddling with his tie.

The younger panted heavily as he wiped sweat from his brow before readjusting his cufflinks.

Sirius frowned, had he walked? All the way here? Where was Mum? She always kissed her Reggie-poo goodbye.

Nope. No. As tempting as it was to demand some answers, he needed to open the conversation with something neutral.

He sidled up and began with "So…how was your Easter?"

The comment startled his brother who whipped around to face him. Hand half-way to his pocket (undoubtedly for his wand) before he realized he wasn't in imminent danger.

"Why are you talking to me?" the younger boy glowered, hackles raised.

"God, Regulus. I'm just…talking alright? I don't want to fight" he placed both palms upwards in peace.

"Then leave" his brother snapped, grey eyes narrowing.

"What's with you? I'm just asking how your holiday went."

"It was all just peachy, thank you."

"Why? What happened?"

"Nothing! Just bugger off would you?"

"Don't talk to me that way!"

"I'll speak to you however I wish. I-"

A woman cleared her throat. "Boys"

Sirius sighed and looked down at his shoes apologetically.

Regulus watched the display and felt that wave of anger sweep through him again as he stared at Mrs. Potter.

She smiled kindly at the younger Black, "Hello Regulus, it's so nice to see you."

_I doubt it_, he thought menacingly.

"You look a little red dear. Are you alright?"

"I'm flattered you bestow such concern on my part, but I assure you I am well. It's just a tad warm today."

She nodded in agreement and politely inquired about his holiday.

To which he replied that it was quite pleasant thank you, though he was greatly enthused to be returning to Hogwarts as he had his last Quidditch Match against Hufflepuff coming up.

Mrs. Potter then smiled and said she knew both James and Sirius were also looking forward to their last match with Ravenclaw.

She remarked how it must be hard for his mother having them on opposite teams.

He blinked, his smile faltering slightly and settled for a nod.

He didn't bother pointing out the obvious--that of course, given the choice, Mum would cheer for her obedient son versus her disowned one.

Besides, it wasn't even though such a thing would ever occur.

But then again why bother pointing out the other obvious reason: his mother hated Quidditch; always had since he and Sirius played it in her parlour room—a reckless decision that lead to the destruction of her favourite china hatch and all the porcelain within it.

She hadn't really cared that he'd made the team on his second-year. No, his grades had always been her top priority. Though Father had been proud of him and Uncle Alphard had been somewhat impressed. Which was enough, he guessed, though it would've been nice if the rest of his family had bothered to congratulate him.

"Well then" Mrs. Potter concluded "I'm sure you boys will be cheering for each other."

Regulus barely kept himself from scoffing. Unlikely, he hadn't watched a Gryffindor Match since his second-year. He hated the smug look of victory that lighted his brother and Potter's face when they won.

The train horn blew, a final warning to tardy students that it was about to take off.

Mrs. Potter swept James and Sirius into a hug and kissed each on the cheek—causing both to protest.

"You two be good" she scolded waggling a finger at the two older boys. Who half-heartedly assured her that they would.

"And" she continued looking back towards Regulus "I hope you do well in Potions. I'm sure your brother will be a good tutor for you. And if he's not…just owl me. And I'll stop sending him my Poppy seed muffins."

"Aww, but Mrs. P that isn't fair" his brother whined.

Regulus flushed. Sirius…Sirius discussed him with the Potters. Worse. He talked about his weaknesses? I mean, sure it wasn't exactly a secret he was a poor Potion's student…but really allowing that side of him to be a topic of conversation. His brother didn't have any loyalty to him at all!

Regulus stood stiff and alone, grey eyes full of simmering malice. Maybe he should share a few stories at the Slytherin table.

Mrs. Potter then stepped back near the other parents, eyes getting watery already.

"So young Mr. Black, if you'll kindly follow me" James smiled taking a step toward his best mate's brother.

But the dark look sent his way wiped the sincerity off his face.

For the sake of his mother (who was still near enough to hear any insult he threw) James kept the grin plastered over his visage.

James had to say that kid had griping under his breath down to an art.

"Back off Potter, I'm not sitting with you lot" the younger Black hissed.

"Well I must insist, since according to Pads, you have some unfinished business to discuss. Peter! Take care of his trunk will you?"

"Right" the plump boy waddled forward to take it.

James and Remus gave a final wave to Mrs. Potter before boarding and heading to their compartment.

"I'm not going" Regulus stated flatly even as he watched his belongings get farther and father away.

"Oh yes you are"

"No, I'm not you prat"

Sirius glowered at him for a moment before grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the train. He practically had to shove him onboard. And once they were inside, the battle only got worse with Regulus trying to wriggle away.

Sirius (who by now had already been kicked in the shin twice) was swiftly losing patience.

Regulus, who was also growing desperate with frustration, jerked his hand back. And even then, it wasn't enough to break his brother's grip. "Stop dragging me!"

"I wouldn't have too, if you weren't so stubborn" Sirius hissed right back.

"Let me go this instant!"

"I just want to talk" Sirius grit out, trying to stay calm.

"Well I don't want to talk to you"

"Look, I'm just trying to figure what the hell is going on with you!"

"Well it's none of your business"

"I am your brother"

"Ha! No you're not. Not anymore" he remarked dangerously soft.

Sirius face hardened, "So now that I'm not on your precious tapestry-"

"Don't even. It started long before that. _**You**_ decided you hated us. _**You**_ stopped being part of our family. _**You**_ left _**us **_not the other way around. So stop playing the victim" he finished as coldly as he could muster.

There was silence before "Fine then. Fine…go"

Regulus found himself suddenly set free and he glowered as he rubbed his wrist—trying to get the blood to circulate again.

Sirius turned around breathing heavily; feeling furious and helpless and alone in the face of such raw venom.

He planned to march away, to slam his compartment door shut. Maybe gripe a few minutes to James and just…let it all melt away. Maybe even mutter a hollow 'to hell with his brother.'

But he couldn't help looking back.

* * *

Regulus tried to stalk away—spine erect and dignified. But he could feel his composure cracking. It wouldn't be long before his face turned red with anger.

He'd managed to keep his tirade quiet but the hate just kept mounting. Like he was a dam that sprung some awful leak and now vicious angry thoughts longed to spew from his mouth. Damn he wanted to hurt his brother. Wanted to say the most awful things. Wanted to watch him bleed for once. Wanted to see it.

Needed to see it. And then-then…then he'd…laugh. Yes, he'd laugh long and hard and cruelly and…God he was an awful person. What a horrid thing to think.

Was it just the hate talking? Or was it him? Where did the malice end and he begin or were they so tightly woven now that they were indistinguishable?

He needed to find an empty compartment now!

Far away from Sirius and these thoughts and the fury clawing through his chest.

He felt himself starting to wheeze. His lungs just didn't seem to be filling with enough air.

Please, he willed himself, let me be strong. He flung a hand to catch at something—anything to keep from falling.

As his knees buckled and the world went black all he could think was: why was there no justice at all?

* * *

Sirius watched his brother stumble—hand grasping feebly at a window ledge before slumping forward.

"Regulus!"

Several compartments slid open at the exclamation, but a vicious "bugger off" had the nosy students staying away. Ah, the perks of a mischievous reputation.

"Padfoot, what's wrong?" James peeked out before joining his friend who seemed frozen beside the prone figure of one Regulus Black.

"What did you do?" James asked in surprise.

His friend stared blankly at him for a second before snatching the magazine out of his hand.

He swiftly knelt down and began fanning his fallen brother.

"Remus!" he called. And a familiar head leaned out into the hall. "Fetch the med-witch at the front of the train. Peter go grab his trunk"

"What? Why?" Peter asked timidly.

"I don't know, maybe he has a prescription or-or something. I don't know! It won't hurt to check now will it? Just go!"

The two marauders scurried off.

"James"

His friend held his gaze—hazel eyes serious, "clear our stuff off the seats, I'm going to lie him down in our compartment."

* * *

The Med-witch, an inviting middle-age woman with a friendly smile, had swiftly followed Remus back to the compartment.

With great composure from years of practice, she calmly entered and knelt beside the younger Black. She swept a few silvering curls behind her ear as she checked Regulus' vitals. She poked and prodded him several more times before leaning back.

"Is my brother aright?"

"Don't worry deary" noticing the strained look on the elder Black's face "Just a little fainting spell. He probably didn't eat enough this morning"

Sirius shook his head, "No, this has been happening for a while now."

The woman frowned, "Has he been watching his nutrition?"

"I-I don't know"

"Does he have any trouble sleeping?"

"I don't know"

"Are there any stressors in his life that you're aware of?"

Sirius passed a hand over his face in frustration, "Dammit, I just don't know"

She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder "He's alright" she assured him "We'll just ask him these things when he awakens."

A tense twenty minutes passed before Regulus blearily greeted the world.

He skilfully ducked and dodged his way through the med-witch's interrogation, answering as vaguely and innocently as he could manage.

It was testament to his talents that he could lie so calmly even under the blazing gaze of his brother.

She stayed another hour, before a student barged in with news of ailment. Apparently, there'd been a candy eating contest between a Hufflepuff and Gryffindor first year and now both were sick to their stomachs.

The med-witch, who'm they now knew as Mimi, dryly commented that "a healer's work was never done" and she rose to her feet.

She advised that Regulus continue resting and that'd she check back on him every hour.

And then the already heavy atmosphere became worse.

Regulus shifted awkwardly. It was rather uncomfortable lying here with his brother sitting across—staring intensely at him. Even James didn't dare try and lighten the mood, conversing in soft, serious tones with the elder Black.

Deciding that sleep was the best escape from his dismal reality, he turned his back to the marauders and curled up.

_Well_, James decided, _watching Regulus was rather boring_. He stretched his shoulders, hearing the sinews pop. He cracked his neck before reaching into his robes and pulling out Wizard Weekly's newest edition of Quidditch Pros. Page 18 had 10 great tips for broom maintenance. He quickly flipped it open.

"He's cold" Sirius remarked to no one in particular as he watched his brother shiver. He stood up and began reaching up to the overhead storage.

He blinked in surprise, "Hey, where's his trunk? Peter I thought we told you to bring it here."

Peter froze and pitifully tried to hide his bulk behind James.

"Wormtail, where's his trunk?"

"It's-well-when James said take care of it, and I thought-well-that I was supposed to _**take care of it**_."

"What?" He asked flatly

James shook his head. Of all the worst timing…

"Bloody hell…where's his trunk?"

"Um, his trunk is…kinda on top of the train. I remembered the first time we did that and how funny it was so I just…er…" he trailed off at the snarl on his friend's face.

Sirius towered dangerously over the plump boy.

"Go and get it" he gritted—animosity crackling in every syllable.

"B-but"

Remus sighed and set down his book, "I'll go with you Pete. We don't want you falling off."

With that the two boys left, looking almost relieved to escape.

Sirius glanced at James who immediately looked back down at his magazine.

He watched his brother tremble again and huddle closer to the seat. He hesitated a few moments before reluctantly draping his own robes over Regulus.

He found James watching him again.

"What?" he snapped.

Potter put up a hand in a peaceful gesture and Sirius sat down heavily beside him.

"Ugh, this is getting ridiculous."

James folded his magazine and replaced it inside his robes.

"Hey Pads, let's talk outside shall we?"

* * *

Sirius leaned against the wall, arms crossed, lips pursed.

James leaned opposite of him, hands in his pockets, face solemn.

"Did you hear what he said to me?"

"…yes. I-I'm sorry I shouldn't have been listening"

Sirius waved a dismissive hand before asking very softly, "Do you-Do you think it's true?"

James ruffled his hair, "I-I don't know. I mean you did kinda leave, but they weren't exactly giving you a choice. I mean if I was completely ostracized I don't think I'd be happy to stay."

"It's funny. With how much we'd been arguing right before I left, I thought he'd be glad to see me go"

James was silent for a moment. "Padfoot?"

Sirius nodded glumly.

"Well then Mr. Padfoot, I've a proposition for you"

"Oh really?" Sirius replied without any of his usual gusto.

"I think you're right. He's not well. And he's hiding something. And Pads, I'm going to help you find out what it is. But under two conditions. One: you have got to keep your temper in check—we can't afford you to be flying off the handle all the time. Two:"

James was silent for a moment contemplating what he was about to say "If we do find out what's wrong, and you offer to help and he blatantly refuses—I'm going to ask you as your friend…who cares about you…that you'll…let it go."

"But what if something _**is**_ wrong? And he's just being stubborn about it?"

"If he doesn't want your help. He doesn't want your help."

"But you'll aid me. No matter what scheme I ask, without question?"

James made a face "Until we find out what's wrong."

Sirius mulled it all over. If his gut feeling was anything to go by, there was something terrible happening to his brother. But could he really abide by James' conditions?

Time for a loophole. If his brother was in trouble he was going to help (no offering or suggestions about it). And if Regulus didn't want it well…he just wouldn't give him the option to refuse.

He grinned and stuck out his hand.

"Deal"

* * *

He dreamt of darkness and gloom. Everything was black, pitch black. Well he'd fix that. With a snap of his fingers sparks fell and the ground ignited. And then there were flames. Reaching higher and higher accompanied by a cacophony of screams. And in the midst of all the chaos there was laughter.

And he realized in that instant that all he wanted was to watch the world burn.

He woke with a start and shivered pulling his blanket closer.

Damn. The dreams were coming more and more frequently now. How long would it be before others started noticing?

His fingers twisted the blanket. Wait…when did he? He studied the material.

Robes? But when did he pull these out? He shook his head. A mistake, for the world swam a bit.

When he felt steady enough, he sat up and realized he was blissfully alone. He glanced outside the window and noted that all was dark. They were probably just minutes from Hogwarts.

He yawned as he stuffed his arms through the holes and stood. The hem pooled at his feet. What? Why were they so big?

He extended an arm and the sleeve fell past his fingers.

There was a snicker from the compartment door. He turned. How did he not hear it open?

"Still got a ways to go, kid"

Regulus flushed as he realized whose robes these were.

* * *

"Sheesh, I swear you're made of glass" Sirius grumbled as he led his brother off the train.

"I'm alright now" Regulus murmured, trying to shake off his brother's hand on his elbow.

Sirius stared at him incredulously, "The hell you are. No, you're going straight to Madam Pomfrey. And if you don't get better soon, I'm personally hauling you over to St. Mungoe's." He sighed and scratched his head "I don't understand why Mum hasn't scheduled you an appointment. I mean this is not normal behaviour."

Regulus began to pull away.

"Oi where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going to my dormitory."

"I think you're a little hard of hearing, I just told you that you're off to Poppy."

"No I'm not"

"Oh yes you are"

"You're not the boss of me"

"I'll drag you by your earlobes if I have to"

Regulus glared at his brother, but there was no joking light in Sirius' eyes. He'd do it.

* * *

"And then he marched me up to the hospital wing. He actually took me by the arm and dragged me! It was humiliating, it was bothersome, it-it-it's more than deserving of revenge. Do you have any idea how many people saw us?"

Salem watched him in disbelief. He'd been there in the Entrance Hall ready to greet Regulus and he'd witnessed the whole thing.

, "You're angry that he took you to the nurse, after you fainted?"

"I told you my **passing out** happens all the time, it's not a big deal"

"Reg, when you _**pass out**_ in a public place, it's kind of frightening"

"It's not like I'm going fall comatose. I always wake up shortly after. But really, the nerve of him, treating me like a toddler."

Salem released an exasperated sigh "Well…what do you want to do?"

Regulus paced back and forth frustrated, "We could glue him to a seat, or maybe dye his hair pink—that wouldn't be too hard, I know for a fact that he naps through Binn's history class—and he's a pretty heavy sleeper so he wouldn't notice us. The only problem would be distracting his mates."

"Y-you want to prank him?"

"I'll have to…I can't afford to challenge any of them to duel. Except maybe Pettigrew. I think I'm more than a match for him."

"See, I could jinx him during some of his classes, but there's a definite danger of being caught by a teacher."

He paced a few moments before continuing.

"I could easily mess with his food, I mean--the house-elves love me so I'm sure they'd help me out. But I really wanted to prank him myself"

"Why do you want to prank him?"

"Because he keeps continually butting into my life. It's a complete breach of privacy. And my trunk wasn't returned for two days."

"So you're going to hex him because he cares? And because you had to borrow robes?"

Regulus whipped around "How many times do I have to tell you? It is _**not**_ concern. It's morbid curiosity. And those robes didn't fit me well at all. The cut of the sleeves were all wrong. Made me look like I was swimming in them."

"That's not hard to do. You're so freaking thin" Salem grumbled. "But fashion faux pas aside. I'm certain that…if you were in trouble, you're brother would want to know."

The smaller boy let out a scornful laugh, "I'm sure, so he could lord it over my head no doubt."

Salem's eyes narrowed, "_**No**_, I genuinely think he'd want to help."

Regulus clapped a hand on the other boy's shoulder, "God Salem, you're so naïve. Look, things might be all fluffy and sentimental where you're from—but here, we've got divisions. Every house looks out for itself." At Salem's disbelieving look he amended:

"Oh they occasionally team up, except for Slytherin—but mark my words the cooperation never lasts. The lines that divide us are etched too deep to be forgotten or ignored. And you're in the most ostracized house of all.

No other house will ever ally itself with us. They're jealous and fearful of our power and influence. Oh they may have their way here at school, but in the real world. We're the ones in control. See, it makes things exceedingly difficult and simple all at once.

On the one hand, you'll always be at odds with the other houses. Ever the enemy to be jeered at. But on the other hand, that division has saved you. You know exactly who you can trust—because only your fellow Slytherins will defend you."

"Because you're all so nice to each other" Salem rolled his eyes.

Regulus smirked, "Snape pretty much summed it up when he said Slytherin House was a box of scorpions. Still, even if we do sting each other occasionally, when we swarm an intruder we're always victorious."

"Comforting. Still, he's your _**brother**_, surely that means something"

"Only that we all have a cross to bear in this world"

* * *

Regulus spent the next few days plotting. The few times Salem had peaked over his shoulder he'd found scribbled out notes along with a suffering stick figure complete with shaggy hair and a loose tie. He could only assume it was his younger self.

Regulus schemed tirelessly; ruining potions, blanking out on answers, and creating general mayhem as he'd stop and muse in the most inconvenient places: right beside blind corners, in the middle of the corridor, halfway up the stairs, in doorways, etc.

Thus, it was only natural that in one of the worst places to be, _**that**_ was when inspiration struck.

They were climbing down the ladder from the Divination Tower, when Regulus stopped abruptly. This wouldn't have meant much, if he had merely paused, but he'd halted midway and seemed to have zoned out.

"Reg, you're holding up the line" Salem hissed as students above him began to protest.

"Reg!" he urged.

But the boy didn't move.

"Oi Black get a move on!"

"I've got a test to get to"

"If I'm late again and get detention, I'm blaming you Black"

"You decide to be an acrophobic for today?"

"Regulus!" Salem practically shouted and for good measure stepped on his brother's hand. "Go down!"

But rather than hearing an expletive and getting a scowl, his brother glanced up grinning, "I've got it. I know what I want to do"

He promptly removed his hand from under his friend, jumped the last few steps on the ladder and went racing down the hall.

Salem had to sprint to follow him, which was probably just as well…their classmates weren't too pleased at the moment and the more distance they made the better.

Regulus pulled opened a pair of French doors near a suit of armor. He stepped out onto the balcony and beckoned Salem to follow.

"Reg, we've got Transfiguration next, and we can't be late again."

Regulus waved a hand, "I know, I know. This'll only take a moment. I want you to know my master plan."

"Your master plan?"

"Because you're a part of it."

"Oh joy" Salem deadpanned.

But the smaller Slytherin ignored him "There! See that? That's Gryffindor tower, evil lair of my arch-nemesis Sirius Black"

"Arch-nemesis" Salem echoed. He'd forgotten how melodramatic his brother could be when he was excited.

"I've been struck with brilliance. I've made up my mind: I know how to get my brother back. I'm breaking into Gryffindor tower."

Read and Review Please

-


	7. Brave Lil Brothers & Derringdo

Disclaimer: I do not own the HP universe-that's J.K. Rowling's.

AN: Thank you for your reviews. ^-^ ! So Huzzah to Torchlight, RockStarHobbit (great name by the way XD), GryffindorGurl (plus the x's), Shawna D., and Blaze Moonlight.

Your reviews keep me motivated!!!!

Now onwards!!!

Chapter 7

* * *

"What?!"

Whatever Salem had been expecting…that wasn't it.

Regulus grinned, "It's bloody brilliant. He'll never suspect."

"Wha-what? How-"

"Now come on" he pulled Salem's arm "like you said we need to get to Transfiguration" his younger brother chirped, practically skipping down the hall with him in tow. Thankfully, the halls they traveled were deserted or Salem would've been mortified for life. He did NOT need THOSE kinds of rumors circulating around about him and his brother.

After carefully taking a seat in the back, Regulus carefully arranged his things on his desk. Opening his textbook and propping it up, he then discreetly motioned for Salem to do the same.

"We'll have about five minutes before McGonagall comes over and yells at us. So without ado, here's the plan: We have Charms first thing tomorrow morning. I'll 'get sick and insist on just 'resting' in the dormitory. You'll escort me with the excuse of 'watching over me.' You'll give him a concerned look. And he'll interpret that you know about my black outs. Trust me, he'll just be so thankful that I shared it with someone that he'll let us out no problem."

Salem glanced at him questioningly.

Regulus sighed, "Flitwick worries that I never open up enough with my peers. He thinks that I should share my issues. He and Dumbledore keep trying to sign me up for counseling"

"Well, you aren't exactly forthcoming with information, especially personal affairs"

Regulus waved a dismissive hand, "My concerns are my own. Anyways, he'll understand and let us go. Then we'll go down into the dormitory and wait there for a solid hour and a half. That way during the break before the next class, our housemates will see us there and verify our location. Then after the second class has begun, we'll sneak out and up to the 7th Floor."

Salem gave a slight nod and that was all the encouragement Regulus needed. Eyes bright with excitement he launched into the rest of his plan.

For a moment, all Salem could do was stare. Since when was his brother such a strategist?

What happened to the little kid who tagged along after him? It was always the elder Black who came up with the plans. Reggie was just a wingman, a follower, when did he start taking charge?

_When you left him leaderless_, came that little voice in the back of his mind.

His plan…it was so conniving, so mischievous, so…marauder-like. For a moment, Salem just looked at him. Sizing him up. No…no it wasn't possible…was it? Could Reggie really have…?

But there was no denying it, with plans like that and a glint of reckless adventure in his eye…yes, his brother could've fit right in with his gang.

Reg just never had the chance. They never let him have one.

Regulus was still plotting, oblivious to Salem's glazed expression, "Tragically, it's a no flying zone ever since Potter broke that window for the third time. But I won't be discouraged. In fact, it just means they'll be more baffled by my success."

Salem nodded mechanically, trying to suppress the wave of melancholy that was eating his insides.

Taking that as approval, Regulus grinned; Part One: Plotting was complete.

Salem sighed and slipped a hand into his pocket feeling the diary there. It was moments like these…he just didn't know his brother at all, did he?

Regulus, ignorant of his friend's glumness, proceeded to fidget with anticipation through the rest of his classes. Sirius was finally going to get a dose of well-earned humility. He gave a wicked chuckle; this was going to be fun.

* * *

Any doubts Salem had on the feasibility of Regulus' plan, were swiftly put to rest.

Sure to his word, Regulus could act sick. Flitwick had already asked the kid twice, if he wouldn't care to go to the infirmary to rest.

And why wouldn't he? Any Professor would be distressed by such a sight.

Regulus seemed on the verge of collapse—short of breath, eyes glazed, unfocused. His voice was brittle and thin and his face worn and pale—the epitome of frailty.

And the fact that he kept repeating, that "No, he was quite alright, thank you" and "how with exams so soon, he couldn't afford to miss any classes" made it all seem more pitiful.

Several Slytherins shifted uncomfortably and muttered to themselves about awful timing. After all, if Regulus was too ill to participate in the coming Quidditch Match, Slytherin was sure to fail. His replacement, Wallace was abysmal. Bugger! Losing to Hufflepuff would be humiliating!

Soon more whispers arose, ranging from concern to contempt. Do you think he's alright? He's really too concerned about schoolwork! Health should always be top priority! How horrible, it's always the handsome ones who wilt! What a pansy! Come on princeling, too weak to shake off a little cold? I wonder if this means we'll win?

Salem sighed and glanced down. It was strange. He knew this was just a charade and yet…he glanced at his brother's lightly trembling frame…damn, he was a convincing! And he couldn't find a more gullible audience.

Finally midway through a lecture on proper wrist technique when spell-casting water charms, Regulus abruptly stood.

He begrudgingly admitted, after swallowing several times that "No, he did not feel well. That he was deeply sorry for all of his interruptions during the lessons. But that he really, really needed to--"

He wavered slightly and Salem swiftly stood, steadying him by the elbow; just as they had rehearsed.

"I'll guide him to the dormitory" Salem announced "Maybe if he rests a bit, he'll feel better."

He gave the professor a meaningful glance, and Flitwick nodded. "Take as long as you need, I'm certain your housemates will supply you with tonight's homework. I wish you a speedy recovery Mr. Black, and advise you to visit Madame Pomfrey if you don't feel any improvement within the hour."

"Th-thank you Professor" Regulus muttered, eyes downcast in embarrassment.

Flitwick waved a hand dismissively, and motioned for them to go.

Regulus allowed Salem to brace some of his weight and they made their way out into a hall.

Whispers and stares followed them until the door closed shut.

* * *

Safely inside the empty dorm, Regulus straightened from his friend's grasp.

He flopped onto a couch near the fireplace, and dramatically placed his hand over his brow.

"Oh woe is me. Cough, cough"

He caught Salem's eye and grinned; the eyes glittering beneath his bangs seeming decidedly wicked.

"Fools" he chuckled. "How easily deceived they were"

Salem crossed his arms and sat down on chair adjacent.

"I wouldn't have known you were faking" he replied bluntly

"Well that's sort of the point isn't it?" Regulus shrugged carelessly.

At the glare he received, Regulus amended, "Well it wouldn't have been very convincing otherwise"

"Your-er-our housemates seemed concerned"

"A few" he nodded.

"Even a couple Hufflepuffs looked sympathetic"

"God I know, poor souls. They are a gullible lot aren't they?"

Salem sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration, "You really just…don't care do you?"

Regulus rose slightly, "About what? Lying?"

Seeing his friend's mouth set rigidly, he sighed and lied back down, "Everyone lies Salem. Purposely, accidentally, selfishly, or selflessly. You can't escape that. And as long as everyone else lies, why not learn to be a master of it?"

Salem gripped the arms of the chair so hard, he was sure his nails were gouging it. But as much as he wanted to shout and rant, he knew it was useless. The kid never responded to that sort of stuff. He'd just layer some more ice in his eyes and smile. He remembered that from the few conversations (feuds) they'd had before…the end.

It was kind of tragic. When they were little, arguments had been simple. He would shout, Reggie would cry, he'd feel bad and comfort him, and Reggie would either sniffle his own apology or offer a reason.

And then everything changed. Their arguments weren't about simple things anymore: who broke whose broomstick handle or who took the last cake slice. And they didn't end simply. Didn't end at all in fact.

No, it was battle after battle in one long grueling war—and neither brother was willing to budge an inch. The reason for this Hell had a name and it was Pride.

He never apologized. They never reconciled. Regulus never offered any explanations. And so he never knew anything about his brother's…death except for the fact itself.

Salem glanced at his brother. Cold grey eyes were studying him as though he were some specimen on display.

It was amazing how Regulus could still look so composed even while reclining on a couch. For any other boy it would have seemed lazy and befitting of his youth. But for Regulus…no…the hands resting on his stomach was too stiffly laced, his posture too straight…no this was a trick of some kind. Yet another illusion.

Salem frowned more deeply. Yes…illusions, layers of them, from the moment he'd donned this disguise he'd encountered numerous barriers surrounding his brother's character.

The first was a shield of status. He hid beneath the Black name, allowing familial prejudices to dissuade others from seeking him out.

The second was his health. A truly double edged sword. To those who were unaware of his condition, he let nothing slip and the image of a powerful Black remained untarnished. Meanwhile for those who knew of his delicacy, he allowed them to fuss over him while ignoring all of their advice. He…Salem blinked at the realization…Regulus allowed them to underestimate him. That way…he could get away with stunts like this.

And beneath this laid the kid's real armor: his seemingly unflappable composure. Oh sure, he could stretch his face into the appropriate expression depending on the circumstance. But between those instances where society demanded expression, he was cold, blank, his eyes unreadable.

And the only thing that gave Salem hope were those rare occasions where Regulus laughed. Because sometimes…just sometimes it still reached his eyes.

Salem sunk back in his chair. The whispers about Regulus seemed despairingly true. The younger Black really was an ice prince—handsome and heartless like the villains of so many fairytales. He just hoped that unlike them, Reggie's story wouldn't end in tragedy.

* * *

When the break came Slytherins bustled in and out—either to switch textbooks, gather parchment, or share the latest gossip. Several inquired to Regulus' health and whether he'd attend the next class.

He ruefully informed that "No, he would not" and "could they be so kind as to inform the professor for him?"

A few Slytherin girls cooed over him; fluffing his pillow and assuring him that they'd be more than willing to help him with the assignments he'd miss.

Salem didn't bother to hide his smirk; it seemed that girls fawned over Black men no matter what house they wound up in. Well, at least they now had one thing in common.

At the sight of the prone Regulus, Flint (who had come to snatch a homework assignment he'd forgotten to pack) snickered, "O poor little prince, the stress of peasant life getting to you?"

"Just the smell" Regulus retorted, not opening his eyes. "But I'm sure you're leaving soon"

Flint took an aggressive step forward, but a venomous glare from Salem warned him away.

Not that he'd really needed to bother; two of the prettier girls had been carefully extracting their wands through the exchange.

Apparently, the girls protected the handsome ones here. And, after taking a brief look at the general male populace, he couldn't say he blamed them. Especially when you knew you were going to wind up married to someone in the room.

Salem wondered how many of them had their hopes set on his brother…and whether he should start placing bets.

When everyone left, Regulus cracked an eye open.

"Coast is clear" Salem confirmed. "I can't believe you though"

"Hmmm?"

"Way to make friends" Salem sighed

Knowing he was speaking of Flint, Regulus rolled his eyes.

"We were never friends" Regulus remarked shortly. "Our _**fathers**_ are friends or allies or whatever."

"You rode in the same compartment as them" Salem pointed out.

"Well, duh, we're housemates. Didn't want a Gryffindor finding me alone."

There was silence until Salem quietly asked, "Do they pick on you?"

Regulus stiffened slightly, before shrugging a shoulder.

"They used to. Back when I was a young, stupid first year. But I'm smarter now, not an obvious target you know"

"What'd they do?"

"It doesn't matter, it's in the past"

"Was it…intentionally…malicious?"

Regulus gave him a wary smile, "A little."

Regulus felt the intense stare being leveled at him and sighed. He knew his friend wanted answers—had been hunting for them all morning.

And Salem _**was**_ doing him a favor, aiding him with this prank. He supposed he could offer him some shred of information—mortifying as it was.

Damn Salem and his concern, it always made him feel obligated to reveal things to him.

He took a deep breath, "See, I was very…enthusiastic about being a Slytherin. You know praise the color green and all that."

Salem nodded. He remembered. The kid had been a whirlwind of bouncing green joy, rubbing Mum and Dad's praise in his face.

"Well..they…er…they made a nice little welcome goo just for me…" he forced a grin "Cheers for green slime…my favorite color…yep…dumped it all over me. It was…pretty…humiliating. Luckily, we were the only ones around so no one else saw. But it was still…" he shuddered at the memory.

"You didn't tell your brother that" Salem stated flatly, nails puncturing his arm rests again.

"Course not. Didn't want to give that lunatic any ideas. And I just…God it was bad enough that Snape saw me-"

"-Snape?"

"It's not surprising though. He's always skulking about. I daresay Snape's seen me at my worst"

Salem frowned. "He's not just a _**'useful'**_ tool to you."

"Huh?"

"I mean" Salem stressed "you don't act friendly with him just for _**'the sake of your Potions grade.'**_"

Regulus played with his cuffs for a moment, "Okay. So I wasn't entirely truthful with you that day. Can you blame me? I was still getting to know you, and in Slytherin '_**friends'**_ are a crutch or a target. Huzzah for alliances and blackmail cooperation, but friendship—well come on! It sounds awful Hufflepuffish. Not to mention, if you did turn on me—it was best to avoid collateral"

"And just why would I do that?"

The younger Black gave a sad smile, "Oh you'll find a reason someday. They always do."

Before Salem could argue, Regulus swiftly sat up, "You wait here. If any stragglers come in say you think you're coming down with something too. If anyone asks about me, just say I went to rest on my bed."

He then strode quickly downstairs to his dormitory.

On his return, Regulus couldn't help but grin. Part Two: Deception had been successfully completed. Now Part Three: Infiltration commences.

"Here you get to carry this satchel. I enchanted it last night so it has much more depth now. It should be able to carry it all and still remain feather light" Regulus threw the shoulder bag to a startled Salem.

"All what? You still haven't told me what it is you're going to do and--Wait, why do I have to carry it?"

"Salem, don't. You've got the easy part" he stated exasperatedly as he marched toward the entrance wall.

Salem groaned as he situated the bag on his shoulder and followed his brother's retreating form.

As they set off down the hallway Regulus ordered, "Shoulders back, head high. Remember Salem, we're Slytherins, as long as we strut like we own the place no one should suspect us."

At Salem's wide-eyed stare, Regulus clarified, "_**Use**_ the stereotypes against us."

Salem shook his head in exasperation but straightened his posture nonetheless.

Without a hitch, they calmly made their way through the entrance hall and up to the seventh floor.

Damn, no one really did pay attention to haughty Slytherins. The few Prefects that saw them abruptly turned to walk down another corridor. They were no match for the polished sneer of ultimate disdain, from one Regulus Black.

"So then, you know the plan" Regulus remarked cheerfully stepping out onto the balcony. "Go wait at the portrait and do approach it from the side or she'll rat you out."

"Right but…I still don't see why we're out here."

Regulus ran a hand through his hair, "_**I**_ will be out here and _**you**_" he jabbed him in the chest "will be waiting at the portrait"

"But-"

"-Just do as I say" Regulus commanded as he strode out and over to the balustrade. For a long moment, he analyzed the intense drop before nodding and gripping the ledge.

"Wha-what the bloody hell are you doing?"

Regulus swung his legs over the railing, "I told you Salem, I've got it figured out. Those Gryffindors are so cocky. I can bet you that their windows are only latched shut—not charmed. They'd never believe anyone would dare sneak into their dormitory. It's perfect."

Salem grabbed his wrist, "That's because this is insanity! Don't! It's dangerous."

"There's plenty of ledge, and I'm good at Charms. If I fall, I'll slow my descent."

"Regulus. NO."

The younger Black rolled his eyes, "God Salem, don't be such a wet blanket. I've got plenty of experience with this sort of thing. I mean, how do you think I sneak out of my house?"

Salem gaped, frozen in shock and the younger Black took that moment to pull his arm free.

Reggie had snuck out before? Wait…what? No…Reggie was always the good son, the proper obedient one. He didn't do rebellious things like this. That was _**his**_ department.

"Why don't you just bully one of the first years for the password?" Salem asked desperately.

Regulus made a face "That sort of thing never settled well with me. Not to mention it would send an alert through all the Gryffindors. Nope, this is the right approach. It'll completely blindside Sirius."

"Regulus please don't-"

"Salem, remember a few days ago—when you wanted to antagonize Flint and I told you not to?"

"Reg, enchanting someone's socks to always mismatch and scaling a tower are completely-"

"_**You**_ said that my biggest problem was that I live too cautiously. That I over-think everything. And you're right…sometimes you just have to go for it"

"Not when _**It **_is something stupid" he reached over to grab him again.

The boy shook off his grip, "I'll only be a moment, and then I'll let you in. So go stand and wait at the Fat Lady's portrait. It's just down the hall and to the right, you can't miss it."

"Regulus" he murmured helplessly.

Regulus made a shooing gesture with one hand before placing it back on the rail. He then began scaling towards Gryffindor tower.

The next twenty minutes were some of the worst of Salem's life. And he'd thought some of his Auror raids were awful. At least then, there had been some tangible enemy to fight—instead of just gravity at work.

He swallowed nervously and leaned over the rail, refusing to let his brother out of sight. Heaven forbid his brother fall…but if he did, he'd be there.

He gripped his wand tightly, thinking over and over levicorpus levicorpus levicorpus.

* * *

Here, balanced preciously at a great height with wind ruffling through his hair, whipping at his robes—he felt alive. Even in spite that a plummet from this height meant certain death. Regulus grinned, it was just like flying: the same feeling of ultimate freedom. There were no strings here; no loyalties, no illusions, and no lies.

He liked the simplicity of it; just him and a ledge; all he had to do was cross it. If only life were as simple as a bridge.

This sort of thing was practically second-nature. The surrounding was just so peaceful.

He calmly made his way over to the tower. He hoisted himself up towards the windows, gripping the sill tightly with one hand as he rummaged through his robes.

He carefully pulled out his wand tapped the glass "Alohomora" and leaned back as the window opened.

Then, gripping the window sill with both hands, he pulled himself forward and toppled into the room.

He quickly righted himself and leaned out of the window, giving his housemate a thumbs-up.

Salem didn't seem to share his enthusiasm though, and just glared at him darkly.

Regulus mouthed a 'go round to the Fat Lady' and the boy nodded agitatedly.

The younger Black grinned as he shook his bangs out of his face. Elation and adrenaline pumping through his veins, he resisted the urge to whoop his success. Hollering would sort of defeat the purpose of sneaking in.

He tried to swallow the emotion down a bit; he was a Black after all. And even in the face of pure success, composure needed to be maintained.

After all, what with the rapidly changing Ministry Laws, what else was supposed to distinguish his kind from the riffraff?

TBC

Read and Review Please ^-^


	8. Mischief making

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's Universe does not belong to me.

Sorry for the Super Delay. My computer crashed. I'm kinda proud of my little guy. When he gets sick, he gets the plague—not some wimpy cold. XD Oh! For any of you guys who are also reading Sirius Black and the Dark Lord...etc. I'm just about ready to update that one as well as my LOTR fic. I got uber writer's block and then I got inspiration and this comp crash went and ruined everything. But now I'm babbling, so onwards!

Thanks for your reviews! I'm glad you guys are interested in this! Enjoy!

Chapter 8

Salem sucked in a breath as he turned the corner, making sure he was approaching the Fat Lady from her blind side.

This certainly brought back memories of creeping around after his escape from Azkaban. Tiptoeing around as a wanted man was not the same as sneaking about as a marauder. It seemed so strange that something as mundane as a prank could have his heart pounding. He wasn't a criminal here--hell, he never was--it was just different.

Everything was different. Since the war, since Regulus becoming a Death Eater, since his death, since Lily and James' death, since Azkaban and Peter...He gritted his teeth.

He had a chance here, to do what...well...he wasn't sure. But he sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip by. Dumbledore could be real wise about things, he could even be right about the whole time-space-spiral thing. But really what kind of hero would he be if he didn't so much as strive for the blessed "Happy Ever After" thing?

* * *

After checking and rechecking to make sure no truant Gryffindors were stalling in the common room, Regulus made his way over to the entrance.

He opened the portrait and immediately noticed Salem slinking over carefully.

Once he was near enough, Regulus grabbed his friend's robes and dragged him inside. He swiftly shut the portrait and turned to his comrade.

"Hello and welcome to Nid de la Prat" he announced exhuberantly with an elaborate bow. He glanced up with a mischievous grin that wasn't reciprocated.

Regulus' enthusiasm faltered,"You alright? You look a little pale?"

Salem glared, "You dare to ask me that after your little stunt?"

"I told you I'd be fine" the younger Black insisted.

"Do you have any idea what would've happened if you fell?"

"I told you, I know my charms"

"What if something went wrong? If you hit your head? Or if you panicked? What then?"

Regulus chuckled "then I would've gone SPLAT" for emphasis he slammed his hand down on a thin table in the corridor. The impact made several paper organizers rattle.

"That's not funny"

The shorter Slytherin shrugged, "But I didn't and so there's nothing more to fret about. Now come on, we've less than an hour if we want to be back in the dungeons without raising any suspicions."

Salem nodded mechanically and let his brother lead the way.

* * *

Salem shifted uncomfortably, they had already wasted ten minutes just wandering about the Common Room. For someone who planned things so intricately, Regulus certainly got side-tracked pretty easily.

To Salem it was all too familiar, and left a queasy feeling of betrayal and failure--of happy times lost too soon.

For Regulus it was a complete novelty, he walked about examining everything like some sort of auditer.

"Spoiled Gryffindors. No drafts at all." He wandered over to the chairs and made a face of disgust as he pinched the cushions "These are soo much more comfortable than ours. That's unfair. Damn Dumbledore always favoring them over the rest of us."

"I mean just look at how much nicer it is up here" he waved a hand about "They've got landscape paintings. We don't have that. And they've got wood floors. Hmmm…their carpets aren't quite as nice as ours and their lamps are a little too frilly in my opinion. But it's obvious they're the favorites of this school. Can't you feel how much warmer it is up here? No need to wear your robes all the bloody time."

Salem glanced about--there was the spot where he and the marauders had their first prank as group. There was where Evans threw her drink at James during their Third Year on New Years Eve. There's where he had his first kiss from his first date. There's where she broke up with him when she found out he was also interested in her friend.

There's where James and he made a pact to be real brothers in all but name.

"Salem? Salem? Oi!" a soft punch to the arm brought him back to the present--er the past--or whatever the hell this was.

"You sure you're alright? I know I'm a walking disease, you haven't caught anything from me have you?"

He shook his head, "No, I just...want to get out of here."

Regulus frowned "We've barely been here a few minutes. Where's your backbone Rostings? Where's all that tough talk about all your past pranking? If I knew you were going to be such a pansy, I'd have taken Snape with me today."

Salem glared. God, if there was a way to tick him off, Severus Snape was the champion of it. Just the mention of him was enough to send him ranting. He knew was being goaded, but...damn it all...seeing how Reggie and Snape hung out all the time...he was sure the kid has asked for Snape's help on misadventures...and gotten it...Snape over him! The prankster-extroadinaire! It didn't matter what universe this was, he was not about to let a greasy git like Snape trump him. Not when he was aware of it this time.

Regulus smirked at the other boy's glowering face. For the life of him he couldn't understand Rosting's obvious, undying fury towards Snape. The boy seldom spoke of it, but you could see it smoldering in his eyes. It's not like Snape even earned it, like he sometimes did, with a careless comment. In all respects, Snape had been indifferent to him. Regulus pondered over it a moment, maybe Snape reminded him of someone. That was very plausible. After all, no one in the family looked more like Sirius than Regulus. And Bella hated him for it with a vengeance.

He scanned the area, noting a staircase, "Come on, this way"

They climbed quickly passing entrances until, "Year 6" Regulus read aloud from a plaque above the doorway. "This is it"

The shared a serious nod, not unlike a colonel and his lieutenant and they entered the room.

Regulus wrinkled his nose at the scene, "Hmm. House-elves must save this place for last. Can't say I blame them. Blech! Smells like sweaty socks and looks like a tornado ripped through"

Clothes littered the floor along with candy wrappers and several apple cores, some Quidditch equipment, a floating diagram of what appeared to be a lunar cylce, and various school papers sloshed haphazardly across the floor.

His eyes skimmed over each bed.

"Oh! We have a winner. Only Sirius would have a muggle toy like that" he announced pointing at the hula-girl figurine. "He has no taste whatsoever."

Regulus hopscotched his way over jumping over dirty underwear and what looked like an empty fish bowl.

Once in front of the bed, he shoved the rest of the comforter off it, revealing a great, ornate trunk.

"You know it's funny, he absolutely despises all things Black, but notice that he kept his trunk. Poor stupid Sirius, I bet he doesn't even remember the trick of these."

At Salem's curious look, he elaborated, "It's a Black Trunk. Which means only Blacks and those of their confidence may open it. He may not recognize us as family any more, but that trunk will."

He confidently strode toward it and knelt. There was a very slim possibility that Sirius had undone the charm or manipulated it somehow. Regulus hesitated a fraction-of-a-second before unlatching the lock.

Nothing occurred. No bolt of lightning, no painful hex. Regulus flashed his housemate a triumphant grin as he threw the lid open.

"Throw me the satchel" once the bag was in his hands, Regulus began dumping loads of wrinkled spare robes into it.

"Alright, trunk emptied. Now...yep. A dresser."

As they approached it, Regulus halted.

"Careful," he threw an arm out to block Salem "If I know Sirius, he's probably jinxed it somehow"

"Do you even know which drawer is his?"

Regulus frowned, eyes scanning the furniture.

He was silent for a minute or two before stating, "He's probably the first one. He always liked to be the top drawer whenever we stayed over at Uncle Alphard or Aunt Druella's."

Salem blinked. His brother had his tendencies pegged. Could he say the same?

"Here hold this" Regulus shoved the bag at his friend who frowned but took it all the same.

The younger Black crossed his arms and bowed his head in deep concentration.

"Aw damn it. Damn. I-I can't remember what hex...He has a favorite hex...It was-It was kelsica-No Krelsiva?

"Look I really don't think he bothered hexing it" Salem offered.

"I'm not growing tentacles out of my ears, because I didn't decide to err on the side of caution! Now just give me a minute. I'll think of it."

"Reg, it's probably just his socks and shirts and stuff. I don't think he's hell-bent on defending those."

"Yes well, Bella's wardrobe-"

"-well he's not Bella!" he snapped and swiftly jerked the drawer open.

He turned to see his brother bracing himself for some sort of retribution. Two beats later he opened an eye.

"You done O Brave One?"

The younger Black spluttered for a moment before leaning forward and inspecting the contents.

"Huh, you were right. It is just socks and shirts and stuff. Well, who knew he'd keep normal stuff there. But that's beside the point. Open the satchel."

Salem did as ordered and soon they were scooping armfuls of clothes into the bag.

Salem shook his head—he was pranking himself—man that felt weird.

"So, what exactly are we doing next?" he asked trying to keep the exasperation from his voice "Dying them pink or some rubbish?"

"Oh, I think I know a few places that would be perfect to display his wardrobe"

"Y-you're going to-"

"Oh yes I am. I dare incur his wrath"

With Regulus laughing maniacally, Salem didn't bother withholding a sigh. He had a feeling a pranking war was starting. And though by being on both sides he was assured of winning, he was also guaranteed of losing.

"Tonight" Regulus grinned, eyes bright with mischief "We do a little decorating"

* * *

Great. Just great. Sirius groaned as he slung his satchel over his shoulder and sulked out of the greenhouse.

He'd spent so much time worrying over his brother that he'd completely screwed up his Herbology project. Not paying attention to the greenhouses' supply labels, he'd fed his plant Vinegar instead of water and it instantly shriveled up.

And then there was James and Remus guffawing over his dumb mistake. It was something to be expected of Peter, certainly not him.

During his Charms class this morning, he'd blanked out on the quiz wondering if Flitwick knew about his brother's illness. Reggie was a favorite of his after all.

In Quidditch Practice, he'd put his left shin-guard on backwards three times in a row. All because he kept imagining how awful it'd be if Regulus had one of his fainting spells on the pitch.

And then there was the fact that he'd looked for him at all the mealtimes today and hadn't seen him once. Did that mean he was sick again? Had he fainted? Was he actually in the Hospital Wing right now?

And damn it all, the thing that really aggravated him was how...how could his parents keep something like this from him? I mean sure there was that whole disownment-fall out thing--but this was important! After years of having his Mum breathe down his neck about watching out for his brother, how could she neglect to tell him about this?

Sick of Sirius grousing his concerns, Remus finally asked him why he didn't just go over to the Hospital Wing already?

And he couldn't really answer. It WAS most likely that Regulus was there. And seeing him WOULD make him feel better...at least until the kid opened his mouth to insult him. But he just really...didn't want to see Snape there again. He had been making casual inquiries this last week and his fears were being confirmed. They were friends. Great friends it sounded like, since Reggie's first year even.

His little brother best-friends with his worst-enemy. He could rant for hours about that and he did, his fellow marauders could vouch for it.

For once he was actually thankful for a cart-load of assignments--great distractions.

Three essays later, his eyes felt like peeled grapes, his hand was cramping, and his neck was unbearably stiff, but his mind was finally blissfully blank.

It was time to just throw on his pajamas, go to bed, and put this day behind him.

He walked over to the dresser. Automatically reaching for the top drawer, it was declared his ever since First-Year with James as the second, Remus as the third, and Peter as the bottom one.

He pulled it open, reached in, and nothing. He looked down in shock. His exhausted mind boggled. What?

He closed his eyes tightly and opened them. Nope. Not a hallucination. He shuffled over to his trunk, undoing the latch and throwing it open. Just quills, parchment, odds and ends etc.

Fatigue was swiftly replaced by a burst of confusion.

Nononononononono Where were all his clothes?

Then it hit him! And fury set in.

He knew who was responsible! He stomped down the staircase and stalked into the common room, instantly scaring some second-years out of the room. An angry Black was not something to aggravate.

He marched over to where James was finishing up his research assignment for Binns on 12th Century Goblin Politics.

He glanced up and smiled "Hey Pads what's-"

"All of my effing clothes are missing."

"Huh?" came the innocent wide-eyed stare.

"James I swear if you-"

"Whoa whoa, I swear it wasn't me this time" James stated quickly raising both hands in peace.

"Moony"

"The hell would I want with your underwear?"

"Peter"

"I was with you the whole time today" Peter answered desperately.

"…Right. Well I need them!"

Sirius stood with his arms crossed, brows furrowed, foot tapping impatiently.

"Sirius, right now?" James groaned.

"Yes right now!"

"We can't it's after hours" Remus remarked from behind his book.

"Since when has a curfew restrained the like of us"

"Since McGonnagall said and I quote '_If I see any of you rule-breaking before the last Quidditch Match, you'll be helping Filch clean the castle with your toothbrushes'_"

"Yeah," James groaned "She REALLY wants us to win"

"You know if we had the MAP we could at least see who's sneaking about"

Peter lowered his head in shame.

"Sirius" Remus snapped, closing his book "It was bound to get confiscated at some time or other. Let it go."

"Just wear what you wearing now, tomorrow" James suggested.

"But-but its _**dirty**_"

"We could be wandering around all night" James moaned "Just borrow some of mine"

"You're shorter than me!"

"Since when were you so prissy?" James rolled his eyes.

"Sirius, just wait until morning." Remus sighed "We'll look before class"

"But Moony!"

"You can't afford to get into too much trouble until after the match"

James sighed and readjusted his glasses, "Hate to say it, but he's right"

"But we could...you know" he lowered his voice "use your cloak"

"But if we're caught…" James trailed off "Well, we can kiss our Quidditch Cup goodbye"

Sirius scowled, "Fine. But first thing in the morning. Or else."

Remus raised an eyebrow.

Sirius gave a sinister grin "Need I go on? Come on friends, Padfoot can do some heinous things to your lives. Nothing like dogspit in your pumpkin juice to start off a hellish day."

* * *

Distinctly disgruntled about wearing his rumpled clothes from yesterday, the attention he was attracting was really starting to tick him off.

Everyone seemed to be…snickering at him. And as he hadn't pulled off a prank recently, it wasn't good laughter.

Grumbling about idiots, Sirius pushed his way through the crowd. His friends let him lead the way, staying just out of arms reach. The sooner Pads got something to eat, the more amiable he'd be.

"Damn it what the hell are they laughing about?" Sirius growled as two girls caught sight of him and burst out laughing.

Remus rolled his eyes and froze, "Eh? Er. Um. Siri. I've found some of your er…clothes." He pointed straight up.

He flushed as he noted his clothing adorning the Great Hall.

He spent the next hour compiling all articles of clothing, after getting chewed out by McGonnagall and Filch. He growled as he picked up some socks and stuffed them into his book bag.

Really people, like I'd willingly subject myself to humiliation.

Swearing viciously, he took his boxers off a suit of armor's visor.

* * *

After suffering through Transfiguration where everyone felt the need to make a joke at his expense.

He stalked into the Great Hall for lunch, James close behind him.

His eyes scanned the tables for Remus. On a whim he skimmed the other tables and locked eyes with his brother.

Under normal circumstances, each brother would send a glare

But Regulus wasn't glaring. He wasn't emanating dark fury or cold indifference. No…he was smirking. One corner of his lips lifted mockingly.

James followed his friends gaze, "Oh he is so guilty."

Without ado, Sirius made a beeline towards the Slytherin table.

Regulus raised an eyebrow at the seething form before him.

"You" the elder Black hissed

"Me?" Regulus echoed.

"You" he gritted his teeth "did this"

Regulus glanced at James, "Potter why is he here?"

"He just...wants to talk" James offered casually.

"Really" was the unconvinced reply.

"What?" James asked "What is so odd about Sirius wanting to talk to you?"

"Because we don't talk—we harass one another"

"Oh brotherly love"

Regulus snorted.

"You"

"Yes, me. We've done this part already"

"My robes are missing" Sirius grit out.

"Really, you're sure there not…up there somewhere"

"My Quidditch robes smartass"

"Well that _**is**_ unfortunate" Regulus offered with mock concern. "I daresay those are rather important, aren't they?"

"Where are they Regulus?"

"I can't say I know" he shrugged glancing at his fingernails with a practiced air of boredom.

Sirius let out an inarticulate roar of anger, "Look here you little--" he grabbed the front of his Regulus' robes.

"Hey Pads?"

"Not now"

"I can't imagine why you're upset over something I didn't do" Regulus shrugged carelessly.

"Now you...you...How do you even know those are mine anyway?"

"Well" Regulus sighed, before taking a deep breath "I heard it from Flint, who heard it from Celia who heard it from Maurice, who overheard Tabitha telling Frida, who heard it from Thomas, who heard it from Derrick" _'Who heard it from me'_ he thought smirking.

"Pads?"

"Not now I-"

"Oi Bloodtraitor you're not wanted here"

A mass of Slytherins had been steadily gathering around them. Several of which had their wands at the ready.

James was trying to smile disarmingly at two brutes who were cracking their knuckles menacingly.

"Sorry" Fint smiled nastily as he made his way to the front "But we can't have you check-mating our little king there, he may be pretty useless most of the time but he's still an important piece on the board."

Sirius slowled released his brother, watching for some sort of reaction. But Regulus seemed unaffected. He was no more offended of Flint's comment than his brother's assault.

Either Regulus was the globe's best actor, or there was even more wrong with him then just his illness. God, he steps out for barely a year and his brother's life goes to hell.

He threw a quick glance over his shoulder as he and James scuttled away. Regulus smiled and sniggered with his housemates, gesticulating wildly making the Slytherins laugh disdainfully--at Sirius' expense no doubt.

And he so desperately wanted to be angry with him! First making him worry and then making a fool out of him. Once he and James were back, safely seated at the Gryffindor, he risked a glare at his brother.

But Regulus wasn't focused on him, someone new had taken over the limelight.

He smiled a beat more, laughing at the appropriate times in Lyle's anecdote, his cool gray eyes scanning his fellow Slytherins, making sure each eye was rooted the sixth year. And then quite abruptly the smile slid off his face and he promptly walked out of the Hall.

"You know" Remus noted from his left "Now that we've officially taken up Reggie-Watching as a hobby, I can't help but notice that...He doesn't really like them."

* * *

"Damn it, how the hell did he get in here?!" Sirius growled, pacing about the common room.

James shrugged and frowned. If a Slytherin could sneak in there undetected, stolen clothes were the least of their worries.

"I know it was him, didn't you see his smug little face? Urghh! I oughta hex him, I oughta hang him by his collar off a chandelier, I oughta—I oughta Urghh!!"

Remus just kept scanning the area over and over for some kind of clue. He finally went over to the windows in their dormitory and began systematically opening each one.

"Need some fresh air?" James raised an eyebrow.

Remus ignored him and studied each one until a piece of fabric caught his eyes. There, in the corner a small tuft of black material was caught. He carefully extracted the tiny fragment, feeling the texture. He nodded grimly.

"I think I know how he did it"

"Really? Do you think one of those stupid first-years squealed? Cause I think one of them-"

"He climbed in through the window."

"What? That's bonkers. McGonnagall installed the no-fly-zone last year. We tested it. How could he get over here?"

"He scaled it, Sirius."

"Whaaat?"

He brought the tiny bit of black fabric over, "See? Robes"

Sirius blinked "No, no. That's...that's way too dangerous. He'd have to be off his rocker to do that."

"Well Pads, ask yourself this question: how mental is your brother?"

Sirius hurried over to the window and glanced down; only years of broomstick riding kept the vertigo at bay.

"No…no he couldn't have." Hell, Sirius didn't think he himself would do it.

* * *

By the end of the week almost everything was accounted for.

He smiled tightly as some girls returned his socks giggling uncontrollably. He stuffed the clothing in his bag and glared at James' smirk.

"It's not that funny"

"It's a little funny" James amended "I never knew your brother had any sense of humor and though I'm not fond of the little twerp, I've got to hand it to him. He did a fair job. Not real fancy, so he's got nothing on us--but considering that he probably did it alone and he scaled our tower... He was determined. You got to admire that."

"Yeah, yeah, he pulled a fast one over me. Congrats to the little princeling" he spat "But damn it where are my Quidditch Robes?"

"Little weasel probably still has them" James answered.

"You know if I don't have them, I won't be able to participate in the match" he ran a hand through his hair, clearly irritated.

"Well then there's only one thing to do" Jame smiled as he made sure the coast was clear.

He pulled out his invisibility cloak, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Just you and me Pads. What say you that we take a little stroll through the dungeons?"

TBC

Read and Review Please ^-^


	9. Snooping

Disclaimer: This is JK's universe. Not mine. Or there'd have been a COMPLETELY different ending. : D

AN: Allo! I know! Shocker! I updated! You are all probably in various states of disbelief. I know, I know, I've been awful. I promised to update more regularly and didn't come through. I've been uber busy, but I haven't abandoned any of my fics. Lady Inspiration just hasn't been too generous lately and I didn't want to turn out anything subpar. Sorry for the wait.

Planeteer, you're absolutely correct--most people would've probably buzzed through a diary in a day (maybe two)...but you don't know me. And as embarrassing as it is to admit...I had a library book for 9 weeks...(renewed it twice)...and even then....I didn't read a single page! That's 63 days! I had it there on my bedside table for 63 days, and I didn't even read the introductory. Sheeesh, it may as well have been a roommate. What's worse is that...I bought a book--almost four years ago--and I still haven't read it! XDDDD So I guess Salem's laziness in this affair is an unflattering reflection of me! XDDD In a weak defense, homework and socializing does get in his way. And it would be extremely awkward if Snape or Reggie caught him in the act. Reggie: *glances *gasp* you're reading MY diary!!! DDDD: Gah! I mean journal!! I mean: * points finger* ETERNAL ENEMIES FOR LIFE!!!!

XDDD which could be entertaining, but not quite the twist I was intending.

Thank you everyone for your reviews! They really motivate me and spur me onto each new chapter. It's my hope to always maintain my fics well and ensure that each chapter is even better than the one proceeding it. I hope you guys enjoy this next chapter! And all its ANGSTY goodness. (I apologize in advance for any spelling/grammatical travesties)

So without further ado:

Chapter 9

* * *

Salem heaved a sigh as he turned another page. He'd spent most of the weekend secluded in the library reading his brother's diary. Not wanting any interruptions, he'd dragged a chair into the corner of the biography section.

It was becoming an obsession. So…so familiar…the sort of thoughts and feelings his brother had used to confide in him; open, unguarded…reflecting the pure essence of Reggie—to the point where it was almost like having him beside him again.

He supposed, looking back on it all; loosing that closeness had left a hole.

Constant adventure with the marauders distracted him from it in his teen years.

Fear and paranoia from Auror raids pushed it to the back of his mind.

Bitter vengeance became his religion in adulthood, and the need to redeem his failures by protecting Harry.

But he supposed there was always a dull ache that whispered about adventures before the Marauders. But he'd always sweep it aside with a burst of bravado—he couldn't possibly have such great friends and still be lonely.

He didn't need a younger voice to praise his achievements. Peter (before his betrayal) and Gryffindor House practically worshipped his talent and wit.

He didn't need to check any closets at midnight to assure anyone that there weren't flesh-eating boggarts and that Bella was just being nasty. The only thing to be weary of was Evans at that certain time of the month.

He certainly never needed to correct James' wrist flicks with his wand-work.

Or straighten Remus' tie.

Or make sure Peter was wearing a scarf, because it was cold outside and Mother would have his hide if he caught a cold. Or that he always felt bad when he forgot. And Regulus ran outside without a coat and they splashed in icy puddles—trying to push one another into one when they least expected. Or that sometimes younger brother would come down with a fever later that week.

And he'd feel…he'd feel so bad for neglecting his older brother duties that he'd spend the day inside, reading Reg stories to pass the time.

He didn't need those moments…he'd certainly learned to live without them.

But now being presented with a chance to befriend his brother, he found it all…lacking.

Being a housemate and friend wasn't enough—didn't lend him quite enough authority or intimacy in confidential matters.

Moments where he wanted to ruffle the kid's hair and couldn't. Supposedly, they were the same age, treating him that way would appear patronizing.

Couldn't really scold him to eat more or tell him when to go to bed or dote on him. People would think it disconcerting at best.

He sighed, running a hand through his curly hair. Whoever would've thought that the older brother part of him still existed? Let alone that it seemed quite ready to pick up where he'd left off over twenty years ago?

He missed being his brother AND his friend. And he wanted it back. Wanted it all. James and Lily safe, Harry properly reared in a loving home, his brother back underwing—as emotional and exuberant and good-natured as his seven-year-old self used to be.

Now he did consider James as a friend and brother—sort of what he imagined having a twin would be like. The Potters were definitely family to him.

But it wasn't the same as having a little brother.

_**Journal,**_

_**I'm so nervous. I'm going to Hogwarts, but I really don't know where I'll be sorted. Mum wants me in Slytherin. Dad says I'm a Ravenclaw. Sirius goes back and forth between Slytherin and Gryffindor. And I well I don't know where I will end up. **_

_**Journal,**_

_**I think Sirius is mad because I'm in Slytherin. He didn't talk to me yesterday or today. I really hoped he was gonna show me secret shortcuts and stuff. Maybe tomorrow will be better.**_

_**Today sucked. That McGonnagall took five points from me in Study Hall, because I laughed too loud at a joke. I mean I do sorta have a loud (Bella would say obnoxious—Cissy would say scary—Sirius would shrug) laugh. But that isn't my fault, it's (Snape had a word for it) jenettetics? I don't know why he talks to me. It's obvious he hates me because of my brother.**_

_**Snape is a jerk. He always insults my brother loudly whenever I enter a room. It's like he WANTS to argue with me. And then he goes poking at my Potions grade. It's not my fault I suck at it. Sirius says he's gonna help me, he just keeps getting busy. Third years have more work, so it's understandable.**_

_**I keep trying to catch up with Sirius but Snape is always interfering. He says I'm deluding myself. I said, "Keep your big nose out of my business." He just shook his head and said I'm stupid. I told him he's just jealous of Sirius. He shut up then.**_

_**Snape helped me the other day, but I still don't trust him. He got Professor Slughorn to give me an extra day to finish my Potions Essay. I guess it was his good deed for the day or something.**_

_**I don't think Sirius is as busy as he says he is. I think he's avoiding me. Potter said as much the other day. I always thought we'd be the best of friends wherever and whenever. I guess school changes stuff. But Potter's wrong about one thing. He might be Sirius' new best of best friend, but I'm his brother. And that counts for something.**_

_**Some jerks were mean to me. I don't really wanna write about it. But Snape was nice. I think he felt bad for me. That just made me feel worse though. He said I should tell my brother to tell the Gryffindorks to shove off. But I don't want to. What if he asked them to do it? I don't think I want to know.**_

_**I got lost today. Snape helped me find my way back. He tried to make conversation but he sort of failed. Maybe he's what Cissy calls "socially awkward." Translation: sucks at talking. If that's the case, then I'll have to listen more carefully. Maybe he isn't meaning to come across as such an arrogant prat.**_

Salem tried to ignore the twist in his gut when Snape became Severus.

_**Severus and I hung out by the lake today. Guess he's a half-blood, and he was showing me some muggle stuff. His mum sent him some muggle candy and he shared with me. It wasn't half-bad. Definitely better than the lumps Aunt Lucretia serves—I think her tastebuds are giving out and that's why all her treats are awful. **_

_**Last night, Severus and I snuck into the kitchen for a midnight snack. It was awesome. We almost got caught three times! But Snape knows all the right places to hide. **_

_**Severus is great at Potions. I mean, really, he's like super magnificent, I-can't-believe-he-memorized-the-ingredients, awesome. He helps me with Potions and other work when I'm too frustrated or tired to understand it. And he saved me the other day, when I forgot to study for a Transfiguration quiz. Whipped out a quill and wrote down a list of answers for me to memorize. I aced it! Thank you Severus Snape! **_

It was difficult seeing Snape's name crop up more and more. Or that Regulus seemed to burst with praise for his housemate.

_**New year at Hogwarts! Glad to be back! Snape's been writing to me, but his letters are really bland. I'm gonna let him borrow Mum's book of rules on proper correspondence. It's supposed to be for Purebloods. But Snape's half pureblood, so I think he's qualified enough. **_

He found himself laughing at various misadventures and ruing that he wasn't a part of any of them. He wasn't there for Charms experiments or Potions mishaps or enchantments gone wrong.

He did notice certain trends though. Mounting agitation became apparent right before winter break each year. Odd because he'd known the kid to adore Christmas and New Years.

Maybe it was because of how he always tried to make family events a scene when he was present…and he succeeded. All the blazing rows he'd start with Bella. Or the time he made Aunt Druella's cake explode. Strange, Salem had never really felt guilty about that until now.

_**Stupid Sirius! I hate him! **_Tear splotches._** If he was really my brother, he'd just know! He'd look at me and just know. And he'd do something about it. Because I can't.**_

And what was he supposed to make of that? What did he do that was so unforgivable? Was it a rude remark? Was it about that time he sent him an assortment of candies for Christmas? Ones he knew his brother didn't like…and that was sort of the point.

Soon the entries became more sporadic. The distance between dates increasing ever further.

Salem gripped the journal tighter when Severus became Sev, and he became…"The Prat."

The uncomfortable feeling of being replaced, swept through him—making his heart clench painfully. And he wondered if that's how Regulus saw James.

_**The Prat and his goons blew up the Astronomy tower. I don't know what the hell they were doing. I probably don't WANT to know. But my project was blown to smithereens. Sev says I'm bloody lucky that Professor Sinestra already graded it. But I would've liked to have shown it to Dad, he'd have appreciated it. I guess it's a Black thing to enjoy the constellations. **_

_**Breakfast was a disaster. Flint wanted to have a go. And I got maple syrup all down my front. I clocked him with the marmalade jar, so I think we're pretty even. Thankfully Snape intervened before anything more could happen. Flint backed down then. Probably because it's well-known that Sev is a friend of Malfoy's.**_

Salem felt a swell of anxiety as he glanced at the next entry. The next two pages were brimming with small script. The words slanted and quick--None of the looping writing style he'd been recently acquiring. Meaning, there was no time to waste in detail or flourishing. Salem swallowed dryly and read on.

_**It's strange. I guess Snape and everyone else was right. I'm stupid. I really never thought. I just don't understand how. I guess it doesn't matter. That you really are in every shade of the word—that you could do something so—**_

_**You know I used to relate a lot of words with my brother. Rebellious, brash, reckless, brave, adventurous. I never associated cowardice with him before. And so, part of me just can't accept that he ran away. Sirius never runs away. I have to run away from fights, unless I feel like getting beaten to a pulp.**_

_**Sirius, well let's face it, between the two of us he cuts the hero role far better than I. And so with corny dialogue (that normally makes me gag) he paints himself as a defender of Good. He always stands and fights. Because he's got the wand, the wits, and the muscle to get what he wants.**_

**_I'm the king on the chess board. I've got to use others to achieve my means. It isn't glorious, but it's the best I can do. And those were our roles. And I was used to them._**

_**But he ran away. Like Andromeda. Life got hard and they just surrendered. **_

_**I don't have that option. I can't just leave the board. I have to wait for the end of the game. For the sake of everyone.**_

_**You know it used to irritate the hell out of me, when he'd stand there and scream at our parents. That he could be so damn ungrateful. But running away?**_

_**Well damn Sirius. I thought better of you. I really (being the idiot I am) thought that you could and would redeem yourself.**_

_**For abandoning me for your newer, cooler friends.**_

_**For belittling ideals that you couldn't agree to disagree on.**_

_**For mocking our family, much to my distress.**_

_**For spitting on everything I held dear on a daily basis.**_

_**For making me a liar; every memory, where I defended your name makes me burn with shame.**_

_**What's worse is that I think I could live with all that. After all, put-downs are a given in Slytherin House. Mother's never thought much of my future goals. What with the way everyone spits on each other's beliefs nowadays–I've learned to wear a raincoat on my emotions. And I've forgiven Bella for far, far worse. But I just can't-**_

_**You always did enjoy destroying things. Even more than Bella does. Well, congratulations Brother, this is one hell of a mess. **_

_**I know you didn't see me there, because you've always been so fucking cocky. Telling your mates about what I said. How I was at your disposal to help you find a way to fix it all. That you could come home and I'd help smooth it all over. **_

_**You laughed. All of you. At it all. At everything you've done.**_

_**It repulses me. That I offered my help and sincerity to someone unable to value it. If you had any decency you'd have censored yourself.**_

_**So now I have a new word for you brother. And I see now in the grand scheme of things, that it suits you so much better.**_

_**BLOODTRAITOR**_

It stung. As badly as if his brother had cut the word into his flesh. Branded. As though anyone would be able to look at him and see it. And maybe they did.

Suddenly, the amused sneers of Lucius Malfoy during Ministry Board meetings—where Salem ignored him and continued on with his fellow Aurors, presenting new measures for the safety of wizarding citizens—seemed decidedly more wicked.

Whispers behind his back that he'd ignored, ones that had followed him from his final years at Hogwarts to the Wizarding World at large.

He'd always assumed that it was about how he'd walked out on his inheritance, on the prestige of his bloodline, on Pureblood traditions as a whole—an utter rebel against all their ruthlessly enforced hierarchies.

But now…now he was starting to wonder if there was a deeper layer to it all.

The open look of disdain on Snape's face—like he was less than dirt. And to him, someone who'd had a front row seat to his failings as a role-model…

A surge of self-consciousness swept through him. How much did Snape know about him? How often had those dark, beady eyes sized him up and scoffed?

He left the library in a daze, jostled back and forth by the other students.

All he could think about was that…he did laugh. An action so spiteful and cruel that no apology could really take it back.

How do you mend that?

He realized now that part of him had always wanted to get back at Regulus, punish him for being the favourite—for believing their rubbish—for championing their ideals—and to what end?

My side won that first war. My side won... Sirius thought blandly. It sounded so…childish. I was in the right and you were in the wrong. We won. And we will continue to win.

An image of a young Bellatrix flashed through his mind, _Because winning always makes you right._

Yes I was right, Reggie. Just like I told you I was. And now you're dead. I'm so glad I was right. It was so worth it.

Bile rose in his throat.

There was a sad quirking smile on his brother's pale face, as he faced him that overcast afternoon. Something like determination…more like resignation in his eyes. He knew something—something he wasn't going to share. _**'Goodbye brother.'**_

All his recent time with his brother had granted him more insight.

He knew that look now, it meant…

Salem's eyes widened.

He knew…

He stumbled over a jutting stone in the walkway, barely keeping his balance.

He-he knew. God. Good God. He KNEW.

"_**Trust you? Trust you Sirius? How on earth could I manage that?"**_ Lilting, as though he'd found humour in the whole situation.

_I know perfectly well, that I can't trust you. And even if I could, it's too late._

"**So you're just going to throw your life away?" **

He smirked, again like he'd been told a joke. _It's already over. The Reaper just hasn't caught up yet._

There was silence and then _**"Goodbye brother"**__ I wanted to see you one last time._

Sad smile.

And all he could say was: _"__**You're no brother of mine."**_

He continued smiling and gave a nod. _As we speak, there are Death Eaters amassing, eagerly waiting to murder me. I know I can't escape. _

_But I wanted to see you one last time__… to say Goodbye_…

"_**Goodbye Brother"**_

_You're never going to see me again._

"_**Goodbye"**_

_I'm a walking dead man._

"_**Brother"**_

_Y__ou may despise me. You may have disowned me. We may have blasted you off of our tapestry. But you are my brother._

_And Brother, I wanted to see you one last time. Because I'm going to die. Probably tomorrow, maybe the day after if they're running a bit slow._

Shoulders back, head high, gait even—Regulus walked away.

_Arrogant little berk_, Salem had thought, _disgusting._

Walking away into the darkness…a Darkness that would swallow him up until he was gone, gone, gone!

A star imploding! And then there would just be a great black hole. Deeper than any burn he or Andromeda could earn.

Calmly walking to his death—even pausing once to look over his shoulder and giving a short cheery wave: _I'm off to the underworld, Siri. Have fun winning. I know how much it means to you._

Victory! Another despicable Death Eater vanquished!

He gagged and clapped a hand over his mouth as he rushed into the boy's bathroom—barely making it to the sink, before being violently ill.

* * *

On the ground, the Slytherin beaters were practicing their swings, while the chasers were busy doing passing drills.

Currently unneeded, the Slytherin Keeper and Seeker were entertaining themselves. Barty Crouch was sitting in the hoop of the middle goal post folding paper airplanes that he jinxed to fly into people eyes when they weren't paying attention.

Meanwhile Reggie was soaring overhead—flying in lazy loops.

He was upside down in the middle of an arc, when he noticed Salem alone in the Slytherin section. He promptly gave a cheery wave.

From his slumped position on a bleacher, Salem stared at him blankly.

Sure Salem wasn't exactly the most chipper of fellows, but even he returned obligatory greetings. Unlike Snape, who normally only gave one acknowledging nod…if he was in a good mood.

If he didn't know better, he'd say his housemate was brooding. He knew Salem to be the sort who'd zone out, but he'd never seem him so down before. Downright depressed.

Regulus flew his way over, hovering just over the rail.

"Hey Salem, what's with you?"

His fellow housemate remained silent.

"Because you look dreadful" he offered.

"Just having an off day, I guess" his friend murmured hoarsely.

Regulus frowned.

"Are you ill?"

"No, I'm just-I probably just ate something…" _I just swallowed a nasty bit of truth, it's still settling._

"You know, Sev probably has a potion that'll clear that right up. I swear he's got a dresser full of concoctions. If you ask him, I'm sure he'll-"

"I don't want anything from Snape!" he snapped. Not from the bloke who'd usurped his spot in Reggie's life.

Regulus blinked at the outburst. Of heaven and hell, he couldn't understand Rosting's hatred of Snape. He'd have to get to the bottom of that eventually.

He'd already made a mental list of all of their interactions and just couldn't identify where the anger stemmed.

He must've been musing for quite some time, because now Rostings was looking at him in concern. He shook his head.

"Alright" Regulus relented. He wouldn't try to force a friendship with Snape. If Salem could learn to just tolerate the Potions Prodigy, he'd be leagues ahead of most of their dorm.

Mother had taught him that sometimes, despite the best of hopes and intentions and well-wishes…some things just weren't meant to be.

And he knew from first-hand experience, that forcing shards of broken glass to come together will only cut your hands.

It was best to change the subject.

"So…" he cleared his throat. "So, our match is tomorrow after History Class. Are you…I mean, you seem to like Quidditch…but I know school sports don't quite compare to professional ones and I'd-I'd understand if you had something better to do." At this point, he'd begun fiddling with his gloves "That battle ax McGonagall assigned a ton of work on Friday, I'll probably have to pull an all-nighter tomorrow to finish it. So if you wanted to get ahead on that I'd understand, but I was…wondering-"

"Rostings, I'll save you a load of deciphering. This is Rego-speak for: please come watch the game and support Slytherin" a despicably familiar drawled.

Regulus flushed while Snape snickered, climbing up the bleachers near his housemates.

Rostings bit back his urge to tell him off, and faced his brother.

"I'll be here" he vowed.

Again Regulus flushed, "I mean it's not that important to me—no skin off my nose—I just—Slytherin needs it's whole house's support—you know, because we really just don't have that many fans and-Oh! Flint's calling us in for a huddle-Gotta go!"

With that he urged his broom into a nosedive toward the pitch.

Snape chuckled, "And THAT means thank you."

Salem glanced at him.

Snape shrugged, "If you do intend to be his friend, you'll have to get used to it. Phrases like 'I'm sorry' or 'Thank you' just aren't typical of Blacks."

"Ah, so you're an expert" Salem bit out flatly.

"I've known him since his first year" Snape replied matter-of-fact.

Salem grit his teeth, _I've known him since he was born. _

"Purebloods" the sixth-year sighed "They're different from us. Prouder, stuffier, more inflexible. They get more prestige than us certainly. But they also get twice the stress. Appearances have to be maintained. Expectations must be fulfilled. So you see, these sorts of things" he waved a hand "are everyday life."

"Reeeally"

Snape nodded, "I mean, if other Purebloods had heard that—you'd have both been mocked. You're his ally now, you're expected to come. He shouldn't even have had to ask."

Salem glowered, _he didn't need to—I'd have come even if he told me not to._

"Civility, cordiality, courtesy—call it what you will—it's a tool for alliances" he sniffed "Being nice just for the sake of being NICE? Only people without connection or ambition go looking for kindness in complete strangers."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you don't get it. Reg isn't just some random bloke you met on a train. He's the heir to a prestigious Pureblood family. There are…" he paused searching for the right wording "certain procedures and rules to abide by and if you don't learn quickly, you'll find yourself removed from his presence."

"Is that a threat?"

Now Snape looked genuinely wary, "No, it's a guarantee. His family's rather…involved in his life."

Salem raised an eyebrow, but Snape didn't elaborate. In fact, he purposely looked away—feeling like he'd shared too much already.

Salem's gaze focused on his brother who was nodding at whatever Flint was saying. His face fixed in an uncaring, bored expression—not a trace of the flustered uncertainty he'd displayed moments ago.

Salem's brow furrowed. It was distinctly disturbing that there should be such an apparent disconnection between what Regulus expressed and what he felt.

Again he longed for the carefree days of his childhood, where everything was simple. When Reggie was happy, he grinned. When he was angry, he stamped his feet and slammed doors. When he was sad, he cried and clung to big brother's robes.

Salem could understand that—he could live and comfort and confront that.

It was these new reactions that kept throwing him off.

Now…now when he was happy, you might see his eyebrow rise in amusement. Or his mouth quirk slightly in a smirk. If you were damned lucky he might smile or chuckle.

Salem COULD get him to laugh, but it was hard!

When he was angry, his teeth would grit and his expression would smooth out. Emotionless. Eyes dark. Posture rigid. And sometimes he'd just smile nastily.

And when he was sad, he…what?

He didn't know.

_Emotions are a weakness_, a teenage Bella had sneered, _Weakness is unbefitting of the House of Black._

In other words, don't have emotions…and if you can't rid yourself of them:

Hide them, bury them, swallow them down…

Until each and every one fades with time and only worn out photos prove you had them once.

Salem's hands clenched, I won't let it happen again. I won't let you destroy yourself.

* * *

Sirius fought down a grin. Sneaking around on Marauder business always put him in a good mood. Especially when it meant putting Slytherin in its place.

Years of practice had him and James, creeping down the dungeon stairs perfectly synchronized.

Silently they followed a little girl in green trimmed robes down to the Slytherin dormitory.

The first year shook back her pigtails as she came before the wall and pronounced haughtily, "Nobility."

Both Gryffindors rolled their eyes, so Slytherin.

As the stone bricks pulled apart, they slipped in behind her.

They took care to find an empty corner; waiting patiently as the girl trotted into the Common Room retrieved a book and skipped back out.

They waited a beat before striking out towards the dorms, moving carefully through the stone tunnels. It seemed rather empty for a Sunday afternoon.

"God, it IS bloody freezing down here" James muttered into his ear, "I mean, I know we've been down here before, but I never really took time to notice."

Sirius nodded his agreement. No wonder his brother wasn't recovering. A drippy dungeon was hardly hospitable to a fragile immune system.

"From the looks of things, I'm betting the sconces don't get lit until midday."

Both Gryffindors looked doubtfully into the cold, dark abyss that loomed ahead of them.

Sirius let out a low whistle, "Slytherins must learn to be bloody nocturnal."

"Kinda reminds one of Dante's Hell, doesn't it?"

"After you mate"

"Oh joy."

The path forked into two archways, each marked with a silver plate. It was more from memory than sight, that they chose the Boys dormitory.

They passed several doorways before settling on one.

"It's the fourth door, it has to be it" James guessed.

Sirius murmured his agreement, he'd never actually pranked his brother like this—normally opting to try and mock him in public.

Wands at the ready, James cautiously opened the door.

Empty.

Both Gryffindors sagged with relief, immediately shrugging the invisibility cloak off.

Sirius carefully shut the door behind them, catching James' eye and winking.

"Well, Pads what've you got in mind?"

"I'm thinking personal, with a tad of mortification, wrapped in raucous laughter from our fellow students."

James chuckled appreciatively.

Sirius glanced at the room, sizing up each bed.

One usually tidy one in the far corner caught his eye. That HAD to be Regulus' bed.

He was proven correct, when he recognized his brother's broom hanging carefully against the wall.

"I ought to steal his diary, find out all his crushes and announce it to the student body."

A plush, green rug sat perfectly parallel to the four-poster—matching the green satin covers and silver coverlet. Sirius swallowed his disdain seeing the Slytherin Emblem embroidering everything

The deep green drapes framing his window had been drawn back, letting the light of the lake cast strange patterns on the floor.

So this was the lair of his younger brother. How…uninteresting.

He glanced at the side table…boring. A bronze alarm clock. Snow globe. One hurricane lamp. But what could he have been expecting? Mummy's little angel wouldn't be caught dead with a slobbish living space.

He unlatched his brother's trunk and lifted the lid.

He made a face. His brother was devastatingly neat. His trunk divided into four corners.

All of his parchment stacked pristinely against the upper left corner. His ink bottles all in a straight row. His quills laying just so.

In the bottom left corner: One small crystal ball with a pack of tarots resting beside it—carefully balanced atop of some sturdy Divination books.

The right half was devoted to painstakingly well-folded clothes and coiled belts.

Ugh, it was all just so bland except for one small chest in the center with silver designs spiderwebbing across it. Beside it rested a small bundle of letters tied with string.

They looked awful official—all addressed to a Mr. R. A. Black. And there was no return address. Odd.

His fingers twitched nervously. It was one thing to ruffle through his brother's things, planning on hoisting Regulus' boxers as a flag over the Quidditch Pitch. It was another thing to actually read his private mail.

He tentatively picked up the bundle; it was probably just junk mail made to look certified. Some of the Quidditch magazines, he and James subscribed to were like that.

He heard James open his brother's wardrobe and curse.

He glanced up to see James fighting off two turtlenecks. He struggled briefly before muttering a countercurse, though not before one galosh kicked him squarely in the shin.

Sirius snickered, "Fashion always was your enemy, eh Prongs?"

James glared, but took much more caution in inspecting the wardrobe.

Sirius turned the letters over in his hands. Should he read one? Should he?

He hesitated several more moments before James prodded him, "Pads?"

"What?" he snapped.

"Nothing of much interest in the wardrobe. Clothes, a ton of books, shoes, ties, you know—the usual. I think there was one bottle of cologne. We could whip something up for that. Maybe bleach his skin a different color, or give off a putrid smell?"

"Yeah, maybe" Sirius murmured noncommittally before he turned away from his mate and slid out an envelope.

He swallowed a bit anxiously as he opened it and unfolded the parchment inside:

_**Mr. Black,**_

_**It has come to our attention that last month's payment was insufficient in covering the costs of…**_

These were…these were bills! He began sifting through each, ignoring James' inquiring looks.

Bill, Bill, Bill, I.O.U., I.O.U., Fine, late payment, bill.

But why the hell were they owling his brother? He couldn't do anything about it. He wasn't the…riiight…Dad was in Azkaban and so the title of Head of House fell to…

But that was ridiculous! Where was Regulus supposed to get this sort of money? He was fourteen!

Why hadn't Mum sorted this out? And if she couldn't, why hadn't Uncle Cygnus or Uncle Alphard stepped up?

They couldn't expect Reggie to handle this all alone?

"Sirius, you look worse than the Bloody Baron. Good God, man, what is it? What-"

Before he could even piece together what to say, voices were approaching.

The two Gryffindors shared the same thought: _**Hide!!**_

Sirius swiftly replaced the bundle and flipped the trunk close as James closed the wardrobe rejinxing it.

They dove under his brother's bed just as the door swung open.

* * *

With bated breath, Sirius watched a set of shoes draw near, they looked awfully scuffed up. The laces of the right one were particularly worn out.

"Should've known there'd be a pop quiz, last Friday" Regulus groused.

Sirius started. He'd never known Regulus to wear anything that was less than pristine.

Come to think of it, the bottom edge of his robes looked rather frayed as well.

Beneath the bed, Sirius frowned—their mother would have a fit seeing Regulus in such a state.

Now Sirius didn't fancy himself overly snobbish. Heaven knew he overlooked Remus' rather shabby apparel and he certainly didn't hold others' financial status against them.

Yet…the thought of his brother wearing threadbare outfits and worn out shoes disconcerted him.

Unbidden, he remembered their last train ride. Regulus hadn't bought a thing from the trolley cart.

If he was trying to pay these debts out of his own pocket…

"Regulus are you alright?"

"No" he snapped and flopped onto his bed, unwittingly causing both Gryffindors to stifle swears as the mattress hit their heads.

"Ahh Rostings, you get to bear witness to the Reggie Ritual" Snape remarked amused.

"Yep, he always hurls before a game" Flint stated knowingly.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know he just does."

"We've started taking it as a good omen. If he pukes more than seven times in three hours, we usually win. So do your best to gross him out."

"Sod off, Rabastan"

"Reg, smell my shoes"

"Get out of my face Barty!"

"Smell them!"

"No!"

"SMELL THEM!"

"Ack, god that's-that's-It smells-It-it smells awfu-awf-ugh"

"Someone grab the bucket!"

"Got it"

"Here!"

"Throw it, quick!"

Sirius and James winced at the sound of vomit hitting the bucket.

"Regulus!" came Rosting's concerned shout.

"Oh this is nothing" Snape assured the blonde-haired Slytherin.

"Yeah," Flint agreed "if we were facing off against Gryffindor, he'd have started puking last night."

"We're going to practice a few more drills, if you feel up to it come, if you don't, no sweat" a voice near the doorway announced.

James and Sirius watched the room empty of several pairs of shoes.

"My God, what a stench! It was like he frolics through sewers."

"So the game's tomorrow" Rostings stated softly

"Yes."

"And you're nervous?"

There was a long-suffering sigh, "…yes. Once I get out on the pitch, I'll be fine."

"Yeah, he'll normally throw on his robes, mis-lace his gloves three times and have two panic attacks on his way from the locker room to the pitch—but he hasn't froze up yet."

Silence resounded for a few beats before Rostings asked, "When are you going to return HIS robes?"

"Let him sweat a few more days"

"That's cruel."

"That's just deserts. Don't give me that look. He's a jerk to me all the time."

"I don't think that justifies making him forfeit the Quidditch match."

"Salem, relax. I'm pretty dastardly, but I'm not heartless. I'd never strip any man of his right to Quidditch. Even the Prat."

"Look, if you want, I'll return them. I can leave them in front of the Fat Lady or in McGonnagall's office or something."

"No, I know just where I want to leave them."

"…in the Great Hall?"

"Nope. I'm gonna hang them on the Quidditch Pitch."

Snape laughed, "That has some merit, but I think you should shrink them or dye them neon green or something…where'd you put them anyway?"

"No Snape, can't trust you with that. You'll do something."

"True."

"They're safe, that's all you need know."

"Here, I'm going to be right back. I wanted to grab my book."

"Alright."

Snape swept out of the room. The moment he was out of earshot, Salem asked lowly, "What did you really do with his robes?"

Regulus snickered. "Nothing."

"Regulus?" his friend questioned sternly.

Regulus laughed harder "Absolutely nothing. I hung them up in his locker at the stadium. He's such a git, I'll bet you he never even bothered to check."

Meanwhile beneath the mattress, Sirius slapped a hand against his forehand. He hadn't even thought of checking there.

"What was that?"

"Your paranoia" Snape announced as he re-entered the room.

"Look, I don't deny that I'm crazy. But there ARE people out to get me."

"Perhaps, but you are your own worst enemy. I still can't believe you scaled it" Snape muttered. "You're nutters."

"What's not to believe? I told you, that sort of thing is nothing new. I mean that was a lot more straight-forward then sneaking out of Grimmauld Place."

"And just how do you do that?" Rosting inquired "That place has tons of wards…or so I've been told."

"Trust me, you don't want to know" Snape replied "I get the shudders every time I see him do it. And the thought that he's done it alone, makes me ready to admit him."

"Well, you know half my family ends up there anyways, so I'd be in good company. But I know what I'm doing. Yeah, there is a bunch of wards. But all that stuff's meant to keep people out not in. I mean, sure all the doors go into alert by sunset. But my window—that's fair game. See, I practiced charms for ages and I learned how to open mine. I can probably unlock just about anything now" The younger Black boasted.

"And just what did you need to sneak out for?" Rosting inquired rather flatly

"Well…"

"Well…"

Snape and Regulus both started to explain

"He sorta dared me to-"

"-I sort of dared him to"

"I told Regulus that he didn't have the guts to leave his home without permission-"

"-so I did. Snape said that if I managed it, he'd take me to the Synonym."

"What?"

"You know, we went to the Cinnamon…the Cienna?" Regulus repeated.

Snape smirked "The Cinema?"

"Right! Right. That's where we went."

"Yes."

"I was close."

"Very."

"Anyways, I succeeded."

"And just…how does that work? Is there a drain pipe to slide down?" Salem knew there wasn't. Grimmauld Place didn't have any sneaking-out-friendly windows.

And Reggie's window…there wasn't anything, but a gutter that ran over it. And even then…he'd have to fully step out on his sill to reach it…and Reg was awful short…

"No" Snape answered flatly. "He opens his window, climbs out and grabs hold of the gutter under the roof. He then swings his way toward the front of the house. Uses the front window as a foothold before aiming himself for the archway of the front door. When he's lucky he lands right smack atop of it, and then slides down and voila!"

"And when he's not lucky?"

Snape didn't answer.

The sudden image of Reggie plummeting to unforgiving concrete turned Salem's stomach.

"You look a bit green, Rostings? Are you alright?"

"He's been feeling sick today" Regulus announced.

"I'm fine" Rostings grit out.

"I'll let you share my bucket, Salem."

"I'll pass."

Snape sighed, "here, let's get you both some fresh air."

Two subdued "Alright's" answered him and soon three pairs of shoes exited.

* * *

The door closed with a sharp click, but James and Sirius still waited a good ten minutes before leaving their hiding spot.

James watched, bewildered as his friend paced back and forth muttering to himself.

"I can't believe that little—So stupid. Could've killed himself, and for what? A movie!? _**I **_could take him to a movie and with a lot less hassle. And why _**his**_ window? Why not save himself some peril and use mine?"

"Pads?"

"And what's he so nervous about? He's a good seeker. One of the best next to ours. He shouldn't be freaking out. And why doesn't anyone care about it? That much fear and anxiety over a stupid little match? That's not healthy! And what's this about Snape taking him on outings to the muggle world? He's corrupting my little brother Prongs. Spending so much time with him. That's probably why he's such a prat to me. Snape's filling his head with lies!"

"Pads!"

But his friend was already marching out of the room and down to the sixth year boy's dormitory. James wearily followed him.

If they were caught down here, there'd be hell to pay.

Sirius all but wrenched the door open, all caution thrown to the winds.

They'd pranked Snape enough to immediately recognize his corner. He'd clearly bribed the house-elves to build him some more shelves since the last time they'd visited. Various shaped potion bottles, murky jars, pouches, and beakers lined each one.

The bed was haphazardly made, with spell books and talismans littering the covers.

A thick black curtain hung from his window, blocking most of the lake's light. What did shine through was ghostly green—making his possessions look all the more wicked.

It was the perfect ambience for a dark wizard in training.

Two cauldrons were simmering in the corner over blue-flamed burners.

Oddly enough, there was no standard rug beside Snape's bed. Just the clear outline of what must've been one. Some sort of…potions mishap had occurred scorching the stone.

Either it had caught on fire…or exploded…or something.

Sirius' lip curled probably experimenting with the Dark Arts.

Obviously, the house-elves hadn't gotten to replacing the rug yet. Probably still trying to scrub out the stain.

Candle stubs and discarded trousers littered the area, and Sirius could swear that the sock in the corner was…clicking oddly.

The clock on the bedside table was moving backwards and the beaker perched beside it seemed to move, every time he glanced at it.

In one word, Snape's quarters were CREEPY.

But that was hardly a surprise—considering what a strange, bat-like creature he was.

Without preamble, Sirius muttered a countercurse and flipped open the boy's ratty trunk.

He ruthlessly tossed out old spellbooks and wrinkled robes.

He knew that greasy git had a photo album. They always shoved it aside whenever they were ruffling through his things—looking for clothing to jinx with itching charms or to make belts that made your pants fall down.

There! He pulled out the worn-leather bound album. Looping initials of E.P. in the corner.

James sidled up behind him curious with his friend's intensity.

His lip curled as he flipped through pages—many featuring a green-eyed girl.

Playing on a tire swing. Swimming at a public pool. A crown of flowers in her hair. Selling lemonade at a Garage sale.

He felt James shift uncomfortably, a slight whine escaping him.

Them at Hogwarts in their respective houses' robes. In class. By the lake. In the library.

It went on and on. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched James wince and look away.

Thankfully, it seemed by third year, Evans grew shy of being photographed. Throwing a hand up or hiding behind something.

Knowing it bothered her, Snape took less and less pictures of her and more of his potions.

He skipped forward another ten pages and his worst fears were confirmed.

Countless photos of his brother smiled cheerfully up at him.

And being a Black made him extremely photogenic. Not to mention the kid was probably used to it. At all of their family events, their relations demanded to take pictures of him. Reg probably came to expect that sort of treatment from everyone.

Regulus in his first set of Slytherin Quidditch robes. Holding up his first snitch. Working on a potion with a set of thick goggles on. Him taking a bow while holding a Charms Essay with an O scrawled across it. Several Pages titled with EXPERIMENTS—each featuring either Snape or Reggie with various devices and results.

Many photos even had captions.

His brother holding what was clearly a potions exam with a P proudly, a note saying: _seventh time's the charm_.

Regulus with a glazed expression, absorbed by a muggle television. He was sitting on an unfamiliar couch in green striped pajamas holding a bowl of popcorn, before Snape crept behind him and grabbed his shoulders. His brother jumped—sending kernels everywhere. Another note: _Creature Feature_.

Regulus posing with Snape at some kind of muggle carnival. Note: _Beware, the ferris wheel is missing bolts._

His brother's arm was in a sling—Sirius didn't remember that—Note: _Ouch bludgers_.

One of Reg singing in a choir—he didn't remember that either—Note: _Hidden talent_.

One of him playing the violin—last he remembered the kid was awful… but the audience surrounding him looked anything but displeased—Note: _Brava. _

Snape in full Slytherin Gear, ready to cheer for the Quidditch Game.

Christmas, he flipped a page, Halloween, he flipped another page, New Year's Toast—where Snape and Regulus would clink glasses, the champagne spilling over both of them and then they'd catch each other's eye and burst out laughing.

A hostile angry feeling was bubbling up inside himself. Burning a hole in him like acid eating away.

That someone like Snape could just creep up and take…he gritted his teeth.

At a muggle arcade. Beside a vending machine. At Diagon Alley.

Both of them dressed up at some formal event beside Sirius' parents. All of their expressions cheerful.

Regulus would turn to Snape, elbow him and whisper something conspiratorially. The latter would reach over and ruffle his hair. Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Black would chuckle—their eyes soft on the two boys.

Orion would slip an arm around his wife's waist and pull her close and they'd share an intimate smile. Anyone who didn't know their surnames could think…could almost assume they were family.

The glass on Snape's clock cracked.

James blinked, completely caught off guard by the vicious expression on his friend's face.

James studied the photograph. The way Sirius' fingernails were digging into the album. The hard set of his jaw.

If he didn't know better, he'd say that Sirius was a tad jealous. Strange, because he'd always known his best mate to be so self-assured.

Hell, he didn't know if he'd ever seen Pads jealous. And during his first-year, he had definitely tried to impress him. Nothing had worked.

James scruffled his hair nervously, casting his eyes about for some odd trinket of Snape's to mock and lessen the tension.

A flash of silver caught his eye, and on a whim he opened the nearby cupboard.

His spirits instantly soared.

An oval bowl filled with silvery liquid. Severus T. Snape etched gracefully along the rim.

It was a sign: Fortune favours the bold.

"Snape's penseive, Pads" James whispered in awe—almost unable to believe it.

"What?" came the terse reply.

James shook his head, "Geez, Pads think of something besides your brother. Lady Luck has graced us this day."

He held the item up above his head. As though it were some sacred artefact bestowed to him by the Gods.

Oh the blackmail they could have!

"How can I?" Sirius muttered, dropping the album back into the trunk like a poisonous snake. "Here I always thought he was a quiet, obedient little twerp. And now I find he has some mysterious disease, Snape as his best mate, a mischievous pranking side, and no sense of self-preservation. He just waltzes out of windows. You heard him yourself! Someone's got to be his voice of reason; he obviously doesn't have a Lupin handy!"

Read and Review Please!!!

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	10. Tensions Rising

Disclaimer: I do NOT own HP...siiiiigh...

AN: Allo! I'm still ALIVE. OHO! This fic is NOT discontinued! I am just LAZY and need pestering to keep me loyal to a particular genre otherwise I gallivant about in other fandoms : DDD

Thank you for your awesome reviews! Nothing gets me into gear like reading them. They inspire me to ruffle through my brain and PRESTO! Update!

I hope you all enjoy it!

Now Onwards!

Chapter 10

* * *

"No I don't wanna lose this one-"

"Be reasonable Flint-"

"He's gotta take one for the team!"

"Birchwood-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, feelin' up another guy is NOT in my job description!"

"Hey YOU'RE the seeker; you're supposed to seek the snitch!"

"Not up another bloke's trousers thank you"

"Yeah, I agree with Black, we don't need those sorts of rumors about us Slytherins."

There was a murmur of agreement, before they shot dirty looks at their opponents who were similarly huddled beside the Hufflepuff Locker Room.

No doubt quarreling over whether the Slytherin Seeker had a right TO enter their locker, even if the snitch WAS inside.

The rules stated the snitch had to be in HAND, for the game to officially end. So technically…he would be allowed to…follow it.

Poor Richie Rodney, a slip of a fourth year, if it wasn't bad enough being teased about his rather large ears, it was certain he'd never live this down.

Not exactly the triumphant victory he'd hoped for—scampering off to the changing rooms: but unzipping his fly and rummaging his trousers midair for an errant snitch, before the grand stands, wasn't really an option.

"Well?" Madam Hooch called, standing almost sentry-like between the two teams. Clearly, she thought war was imminent.

Knott, a loquacious sixth-year beater, cleared his throat, "Slytherin Team's unanimous decision is…NOPE. We don't want our seeker traumatized just yet; we've still got one more match."

Hufflepuff team slumped with relief, one Chaser ran into the locker undoubtedly to share the happy news to their poor teammate.

He reappeared with a red-faced Rodney in tow, snitch wound tightly in his fist.

Madam Hooch declared Hufflepuff winners by default (much to the booing of the Slytherin section) and declared the "tucking of trousers into boots to be a mandatory rule from hereon."

After assuring Regulus four times that the snitch was going to be THOROUGHLY washed, both teams were dismissed.

* * *

"Tough luck, Reg" Snape grimaced, clapping a hand on the shorter boy's shoulder.

"Rotten luck" the boy replied sullenly. A victory would've done worlds of good for his ego.

Regulus glanced at Salem, expecting some sort of condolence. But his fellow fourth-year was still stunned by Snape's appearance.

Only through sheer force of will, did Salem's eye not twitch.

He was struggling to reconcile his memory of cold, collected Snape with the person before him.

Sporting a green Snake hat that jingled as he walked, neon green scarf, and a large Slytherin banner—he seemed nothing like the frigid Potions Master he was accustomed to.

Snape …a rabid Quidditch fan?

Apparently…if this decked out apparel of school spirit hinted anything.

Noticing Salem's wide-eyed stare, Snape motioned to Regulus, "He got me hooked on the game a couple years back," by way of explanation.

Salem nodded rigidly.

What with their falling out, Salem had always been loathe to admit that he enjoyed watching his brother fly…

To think he had something in common with Snape…

He shuddered.

* * *

After pausing by their dorm, Reg to grab his satchel, and Snape to shed his green apparel, the three Slytherins entered the Great Hall for dinner—Salem trudging behind them.

Regulus sighed, why were all of his friends so moody? He supposed it was lucky that they at least took turns being the gloomy one. He wasn't sure he could handle two depressed teenagers.

He sat down and pulled out a letter he hadn't been able to read that morning; recognizing his Aunt Druella's curly penmanship at once.

Snape was buttering his baked potato when he detected it—the uncomfortable, tingling feeling of-

"They're watching us"

"Hmm?" Regulus remained absorbed in the letter's contents, brow furrowing more with every passing stanza. His aunt's demands were ridiculous…

"They're plotting something"

"Mmmhmm" Had she forgotten he was still in school? She always did have trouble remembering his age, but then again they never really spent any quality time together. She only knew him through correspondence. And according to Bella, he wrote with the heavy, structured formality of an eighty-year-old wizard.

"I don't trust it."

"Hmmm."

"I don't trust it at all."

"A72?"

"Indeed"

Regulus glanced over the edge of the parchment at Gryffindor Table.

"I concur, you're right, we're being stared at."

"I know. But I can't tell if it's YOU or ME."

"Make a face. If they do a double-take, it's me. If they just glare, it's you."

"Reg, the M&M's…are Skittling us."

"Lockdown?" the younger Slytherin inquired coolly.

"Lockdown" Snape confirmed. "Lock the trunks, Lock the closets, Lock the cuphoards, Lock the windows-"

"Lock the windows?" Regulus asked incredulous, finally looking up. "Our windows are underwater Sev."

"Do you put it past them?"

The younger Slytherin was silent for a few moments, contemplating it before agreeing, "Lock the windows."

"But for right now, Evasive Maneuver Green17."

"Got it, C'mon Salem."

"Wha? Huh?" Mouth full of steak and terribly bewildered, the blonde fourth year was forcefully dragged away from the dinner table and out of the castle.

The next two hours found the trio hiding out in Herbology Greenhouse # 2. Safely seated under a table, they finished up two Transfiguration assignments and played three rounds of Exploding Snap.

So Reg went this far out of his way to avoid his brother—preferring to kneel in dirt than risk bumping into him.

Salem pushed an overly friendly vine off his shoulder and sighed.

Depressing.

* * *

"Ergh, I mean I know apparating isn't possible on schoolgrounds but where the hell are they? It's like they left…and poof!" Sirius growled, prowling the corridor and scaring two second-years into leaving.

"Rough game, huh?" James scruffled his own hair, a nervous habit. "Forfeit really WAS the only option there."

He felt odd. Gryffindors seldom watched Slytherin rounds. It was just a fact. Especially when that pair off would've normally been a slaughter. After all, who wants to see the smug face of a victorious Slytherin? Slimy gits…

"Well it works out for Rodney; you know it'd be my brotherly duty to pummel him for getting fresh with Reggie."

Remus stared at him a moment, wondering how he put that together, before shrugging it off. And returning his nose to his book.

James fidgeted. His friend was obsessed and it was…grating on him.

What Pads needed was a nice, healthy diversion, "Well, not that stalking the halls isn't fun, but why don't we retire—I've got a great prank planned for-"

"Tempting, but I-" Sirius pulled out an envelope "need to owl my uncle Alphard."

_**He**_ might be on the outside, but as far he knew, his uncle was still "IN" with the family. And Sirius WAS still his favorite relative. If anyone could shed some light and offer a helping hand in all this…chaos…it was his uncle.

* * *

Sirius stretched as he entered the owlery, craning his neck hoping to catch sight of Byrd.

Yes, not the most heartfelt name, but he and Mum were in the middle of a row when they bought him…and feeling rather vindictive he…

Sirius blinked, catching sight of a familiar owl.

"Archimedes? You being lazy again?" Spotting the crisp letter tied to his leg.

Which meant…Drat. The little prat must've been here. He JUST missed him.

He eyed the owl suddenly—attention fixed on his burden.

"C'mere" he beckoned it.

The owl hooted scornfully at him, scooting away.

"Don't you dare" Sirius groused "You don't even know what a Bloodtraitor is!"

Apparently, it did. Because he had to _immobilius_ the birdbrain to get a hold of it.

Totally worth it:

**Dearest Aunt Druella,**

**I deeply regret that I can make no guarantee of my presence at the bridal shower. I am well aware of the pending duties associated with my position, though I thank you for your heartfelt concern. **

**I agree that it is a matter of grave importance and one I will take the up with the Headmaster as soon as I am able. I'm certain he will regard our unique situation fairly. So you need not worry yourself further. I thank you for your attention to detail and the punctuality in which your letter was sent.**

**Until then I wish your family well and hope the bride is looking forward to all the festivities.**

**All of my love-Your Nephew,**

**R.A.B.**

Oddly enough, it made Sirius feel better. So he wasn't the only one who just got initials. Still, that warm farewell accompanied by an impersonal string of letters was curiously contradicting.

So Cissy was finally being married off. Well that was all and fine, but what could they need Reg for? He couldn't—riiiight. Head of House had to be present…and with their father…unavailable…

He tied it back to Archimedes' leg and set him loose, barely dodging angry talons.

Once the little beast was gone—having decided his job was far more pleasant than Sirius' company—the Gryffindor whipped out his quill, one more favor to ask Uncle Alphard.

* * *

When Sirius returned, he found Peter finishing up an essay for Flitwick in the Common Room. And no sign of Lupin.

He learned from Wormtail that Moony had gone to help some struggling third-year with Muggle Studies.

Sirius rolled his eyes; he swore Remus would be a professor someday. Werewolf bans be damned.

James was up in the dormitory, relaxing with a Quidditch magazine.

They'd yet to share their discovery in the Dungeons with the others yet. They'd need to plan a flowery speech to convince Lupin that it was necessary…if not quite legal.

"Ready to learn what makes a Snivellus tick?"

James grinned. Finally! Now Pads was acting like himself.

For good measure, they locked the dormitory door. Not quite sure what the punishment for this would be and not willing to risk it.

James removed the pensieve from beneath his bed, setting it on his covers.

The boys nodded to one another, counted to three aloud, and submerged themselves into the liquid silver.

The world spun at a dizzying speed before settling into a clean though poor kitchen.

The boys stood uncertainly on the peeling linoleum floor, trying not to notice all the broken knobs adorning the flaking pantry doors.

"Now _**where's**_ Mommy's helper?"

A thin, sallow woman with limp hair and gaunt features grinned.

Siruis grimaced; if she was the pretty one in the relationship, Snape had been doomed from the start.

"There he is!" she announced delightedly to her toddler.

Little Snape smiled shyly, hugging her leg, and rubbing his face into her flowery apron.

"Now who's the good boy who's going to help me bake cookies?"

"…Me" he murmured softly, voice high and childish—that dreadful monotone had yet to set in.

"Who?"

"…Me…"

"Who?"

"Me Mummy!" he shrieked excitedly.

"How lucky for me!"

Her hands covered with animal mittens—the left one a cow and the right was an alligator. She playfully tweaked her son's nose.

And they both laughed happily as rain pattered beyond the window.

The scene dissolved, the house disappearing, suddenly there was just rain. A downpour actually, shaking the trees harshly by the creek side.

The swollen creek water steadily rose, accompanied by a cacophony of happy ribbits.

A young girl up to her knees in it, giggled hysterically.

"Froggie Froggie Froooggie!" she sang obnoxiously, said animal squirming unhappily in her hands.

Her tangled red hair smattered with mud.

"Come on Sevvy!" she called to a slip of a boy following her. "Gotta hurry it up! Or Mum'll be mad and won't make us hot chocolate!"

She tightened her grip on the frog with one hand, and used the other to beckon him forth.

He watched her intently, dark eyes absorbed with her—as though she were the center of his universe—staring at her open hand, like it was sacred

He nodded quietly and they waded through the muddy water hand-in-hand.

The scene swirled again, loud thunder rolling and harsh wind rattling the windows of the poor kitchen. The finger-paintings that once adorned the fridge were replaced with sleek, official reports from Hogwarts. Though the magnet pinning them there, was a cartoonish walrus wrapped around a heart engraved with an '_I love you_.'

"I don't know Snape," murmured a young Regulus, nearly twelve. Sleeves rolled up, no tie on (it'd be at fourteen that he started consistently wearing one), with an overlarge flowery apron on him. Clearly, property of Mrs. Snape.

His arms were folded on the counter while he stared at the blender—studying it suspiciously. The orange liquid inside seemed harmless enough, but… "Maybe I shouldn't be the one to do this…"

"You flick the switch Regulus. It's hardly difficult" Snape replied, mixing a bowl of instant pudding.

"Maybe not for a half-blood. YOU have experience with this STUFF."

"It's just a switch—that you FLICK"

"No, you see, you SAY that, everyone SAYS that, but it's really NOT that simple-"

"You FLICK the switch" Snape repeated more agitatedly, stirring the mix so vigorously that flecks splattered his dark green apron.

"You don't understand, my track record with these THINGS isn't-"

"It's her birthday Regulus! You said you'd be helpful. She'll be here any minute! Stop wasting time and just FLICK THE SWITCH!"

"FIIIINE!" Regulus shrieked back, hastily turning the machine on.

Pandemonium ensued. Terrible. Staining. Messy. Pandemonium.

Snape slammed the bowl down on the table and sprinted over—scrabbling to turn the darn contraption off.

The floor. The walls. The counter. Their clothes. All COVERED in orange goop.

Snape began shuddering with anger. Everything was RUINED.

"Her parents wanted her out of the house for an hour or two, so they could finish up decorating. She was SUPPOSED to come here Regulus! Her parents asked mine if that was alright! It was SUPPOSED to be-be-"

He was about to vent his frustration loud and angrily. His eyes were flashing, his posture tense, mouth open—terrible words already have way out, when he heard a loud sniffle.

Severus glanced at the shorter boy—who was coming out of shock and entering distress—his shoulders slumped as he stared at his splattered shoes.

"I-I tried…to t-tell. I'm not-I'm ss-I-I know you wanted-all perfect for-for that one mud-a-and now…now-"

"Here"

Regulus glanced up to see Snape handing him something.

"Wha?"

"The lid" Snape replied. "You…you've got to place a lid on it, before…otherwise…"

"Oh" the younger boy muttered thickly.

Regulus glanced around the kitchen. Goop fell from the ceiling with a wet _PLOP._ His lips trembled. Another _PLOP. _He began sniffling.

"It's…okay."

"I d-didn't MEAN to-"

"It's okay."

"I-I just have NO luck w-when it c-c-comes to-"

"It. Is. Okay."

"And I-and then-You said and I just and the blaendahr started screeching then the GOOO and it's really cold and-and-and I'm-I'm-" the boys pitch kept climbing higher and higher into hysteria.

"When I say it's ok, it's ok,"

"R-Really?"

"No" Snape deadpanned.

Regulus buried his face in his hands emitting a low whine.

"What? No! Don't do that! It's fine! It's fine. That was badly timed sarcasm. I was joking…my sense of humor just sucks is all."

He reached over and scruffled the young Black's hair.

"Hey Sevvy!" a door slammed open. "Your Mom said you had something for me!"

"Yes" he called back—biting his lip nervously before being struck with an epiphany. "My friend here heard that you were an ace at Cleaning Spells and Charms!"

"You KNOW that I AM!"

"I do! But Reg wasn't convinced, so he's really outdone himself making a challenge for you!"

"Bring it on!"

"She loves a good challenge" Snape informed Regulus, smirking. "And now we have a great way to keep her busy. She loves showing off her talents. So just stand back and be awed the WHOLE time alright?"

Regulus nodded vigorously.

"Good. See? It ALL worked out."

Oddly enough it did. Lily adored an audience for her magical feats. And Severus' little friend's idolizing attention clearly bolstered her confidence—sparking her to perform more advanced magic.

As a first-year he hadn't gotten to practice interesting spells yet. And it was fun discussing the more technical aspects—he was a sponge for it—seemed particularly interested in the charms she used.

In the end both seemed particularly satisfied by the exchange, even if Lily did keep calling him "Reginald" by mistake.

* * *

Back in the dormitory, Sirius and James stared at one another.

"Well" Prongs muttered after several moments of awkward silence "Hell…has frozen over." He saw a snobbish Pureblood, a dastardly Half-blood, and his beloved Lily clean a kitchen together…and laugh…and…enjoy each other's company.

"Yep."

"I'm scarred for life Pads"

"Yep."

"…they held hands…"

"Yep."

James sighed heavily.

"Yep."

Sirius stared down at the pensieve sitting there on James' bed. Shining and rippling serenely as though it HADN'T shown him something awful.

It was sickening really…how easily Snape had diffused that moment.

His lip curled; if that had been them…there would've been a blazing row, slamming doors, and objects breaking as they're thrown at one another's head.

He turned and glanced out the window. Rain was starting to hit the panes, he glowered.

"Pads?"

"The last storm Reg and I were in together was right before I left."

James shifted uncomfortably. Lately a darker side to his friend kept emerging, resentful and bitter and…more than a little eerie (truth be told). Stupid Regulus, putting his brother through this. Couldn't the twit see how much better off his older brother was without him? But he couldn't just come out and say that—Slytherins were never straightforward—you had to DRAG even the most trivial things out of them. If Regulus could just give Sirius his blessing, and wish him well in his exile maybe…

"Summer storm. We'd ended up sitting across from one another at the dining table. Breakfast, you know? Shared a comment about the "dismal" weather and went back to munching toast."

"A-alright."

James scrutinized his friend with concern—what was he supposed to make out of that statement?

"It was a good moment" Sirius replied earnestly. "It WAS."

"I-I see."

"No you don't. That was IT, James! THAT was our last good moment! That was it! Sitting there eating toast together. No one smiled, but no one argued. Barely talked. Only the weather and "pass the marmalade." Good moment. It was a-It was a-a-"

Thunder rolled, rattling the windows as lightning streaked through the sky.

* * *

Every year before the Final Exams, an Extra Credit Potions Exhibition was held. A sort of saving-grace opportunity for struggling students…or bragging rights venture for vaunters.

Sirius who never needed to improve his scores was blindsided by this. EVERY year, and he'd never even known of it until this morning.

Lupin had bemoaned his part in it and inadvertently slipped about who was also in the line-up.

The OFFICIAL reason he and James are sitting in the middle row of the Gryffindor Section is that Lupin was specially asked by McGonnagall to read his Potion mid-term.

Slughorn kept gushing over it, prodding their head of house to have Lupin attend.

Sick of the badgering, the Transfiguration Professor informed Remus that if he presented, he'd get extra credit in both classes.

And so there Lupin stood at the podium of the converted Great Hall, dryly announcing his piece.

Thankfully, he wasn't the type for nerves to make him stutter.

Unfortunately, no enthusiasm colored it either; his voice remained calm and correct and horrifically boring.

The audience shifted uncomfortably-Lupin barely suppressed a (perhaps apologetic) sigh, _three more feet to read…_

While James was busy scuffing his shoes along the floor, occasionally tapping out a melody. Sirius noticed Lily to the side.

Normally, he'd prod his mate about this and waggle his eyebrows suggestively.

But lately, he and James were butting heads.

Because the REAL reason they're here was that Snape was presenting and Regulus was helping him.

He'd come to the decision, that he needed to approach his brotherhood the same way he approached Projects.

All of his previous expertise had to be swept to the side…for now. It'd just clutter his research.

He needs to pretend that he knows absolutely nothing on the subject—in order to achieve non-biased ends.

Because thoughts about how his brother's fraternizing with the enemy, leaves him feeling furious and betrayed. And it's hard to function with all of that simmering inside of him.

Lily returned a wave to several younger Gryffindor students peeking through the curtain. Clearly, she'd promised her support—she really was a good role-model—no wonder the kiddies admired her so much.

Her presence was definitely important; the Gryffindor Section of the audience was pretty darn sparse. Bold, daring Gryffs had better things to do than attend lame brainiac events.

Hufflepuff had a scattering of support, mostly older students earning their good deed for the day.

Ravenclaw had about a third of its benches filled, they appreciated smart people—which was went without saying—that was their house's deciding factor.

But what amazed him was the Slytherin Section.

They only had three students in the exhibition, and even then Reg and Snape were listed together as the last event.

Regardless, Slytherin students Years 1-7 had packed into the space. First years sat cross-legged on the floor. Everyone on the benches were smushed together. But no one complained, they all just…sat there. Coldly composed. As though they were attending some tragic opera and not a hastily made school presentation.

Slughorn awarded extra credit for school spirit. And then there was just the principle of the thing: Slytherins Stick Together.

And so began what James would later dub: Unusual Torture That Stole Two Years Off my Life.

Most of the presenters were dreadfully dull. Snoozefest…Ugh…Color-Shaders, Noise-Changers and other kiddy stuff. So their hair turned purple so what? So now they're squawking like a chicken, lame…

Sad…the most interesting ones thus far were three Pepper-Up Potions (with varying degrees of success—one unfortunate girl ended up with steam pouring out of her nose!) and then there was the ambitious first-year Cassandra Nichols who went for a shrinking solution. Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey was ready and restored the girl's foot when some of the potion splashed on it.

Sirius actually applauded that one—even if she WAS a nasty little Slytherin. It was undisputable evidence that she made it right. Otherwise, she could've easily faked it on her selected items with a simple illusion charm.

Before he could ponder anymore—a great change came over the audience; Suddenly, everyone straightened.

The lights dimmed and the energy tensed. Sirius blinked at the transformation.

The final presenters were coming—judging from the excited whispers, Snape was eagerly anticipated.

_In his arena I suppose_, the elder Black thought disparagingly. _Darkness did suit him, a vast improvement with a face like that._ A single spotlight turned on. _Damn, they were going to have to see him._

Dark and batlike, Snape swept onto the stage. His brooding expression didn't waver as he took in the large crowd.

He approached center stage, stood straight-showing off his impressive height. His lankiness normally so awkward and comical became intimidating in the gloom.

He gave a nod to someone off stage, before pointing his wand to his throat.

"I am Snape, a sixth-year Slytherin, as some of you may know I have an affinity for potionmaking."

His deep voice echoed in the room, simultaneously menacing and mysterious.

Regulus appeared, immaculate as always, gliding downstage and to the left. Rather than stealing the spotlight from Snape, his sudden materialization added to the mystique.

If Snape looked eerie, Regulus looked downright ghostly—the darkness made his sickly pale skin practically glow.

A creepy duo indeed.

"My associate Mr. Black, we'll be helping me showcase this noteworthy event."

Regulus gave a bow worthy of his bloodline, wand in hand he lazily flicked his wrist.

Charms Master, Sirius noted offhanded. Sure he'd heard that, but …

He knew it was harsh of him to think so, but somehow he'd always remember him as a second-place son. Sirius was always faster, stronger, smarter, more cunning…

He used to think it was the nature of such things: He came first, naturally he'd be better at everything—Headstart you know?

And by the time Regulus caught up to the first bend, Sirius would speed forth to the next.

He'd made the mistake of announcing that once between them. One of the few times his brother hit him, and of course Sirius won that fight too.

But watching the items float gracefully to their spots was awing.

Regulus' lips didn't move once—silent spellcasting. VERY advanced magic. And at fourteen too.

Snape wasn't the only performer here and he was giving Reggie his due: an opportunity to flaunt his own impressive skills.

Respect…they respected one another's talents…

Snape stared down his long nose, eyeing the crowd—as though deciding if they were worthy enough to hear his speech.

"Mortality—man's greatest adversary and benefactor. When Death's icy grasp reaches for ourselves—perilous, for our enemies—convenient. Now many of us would not soil our hands with such a fell deed—waging Death's War too messy an affair to even dream of. And even for the select few…capable of true, ruthless godlessness—escaping responsibility of said actions proves impossible. But for the cunning, I propose a way—a method of bending Lord Death to our will, as I shall demonstrate before you this day."

Sirius credited him with setting the mood, though definitely far too melodramatic for his taste. He silently commended his brother for holding a straight face. Though, one edge of his lips kept upturning.

His eyes were smiling, privately amused by the whole spectacle.

Little did anyone know that it took 73 rehearsals for him to stop laughing intermittently.

Half the crowd was now leaning forward in anticipation, one quarter was fearfully glancing at the exits, and the other was rolling their eyes.

Sirius was part of the latter; thus far, the coolest part of this event was watching his brother setting up the beakers and tubes. It was neat watching the items zoom out of the darkness and place themselves just so on the table.

Finally, the cauldron and its burner graced the stage along with two stools placed several meters away.

Regulus perched on one, hands clasped—statuesque and refined. His job done: well there went the interesting part.

Potions was practically like cooking; seeing Snape go about stirring various serums and adding ingredients was dull.

All the while Snape blathered on about "seemingly eternal darkness" and something about "Hynos" and "Thanatos."

He then gave a nod to Regulus to speak while he prepped the potion to its final stages.

"Alright then" Regulus announced wand at his throat—suave young voice quite similar to his brother's. "Snape needs a moment, or five, and it is my prerogative to divert you. I will answer any questions NOT pertaining to the nature of Mr. Snape's potion. It is a…" he paused, lips twitching amusedly "_**surprise**_ that I would not like to spoil…Any takers?"

The audience twittered and someone called out "Boxers or Briefs!"

Everyone laughed, including the Black in question.

"Boxers!" he crowed, grinning. "So demmed comfortable, you know?"

"Mr. Black!"

"Dreadfully sorry Professor McGonnagall, inquiring minds want to know."

Sirius burst out laughing. God. Sounded just like himself!

"Who you following?"

"Falmouth Falcons" was the immediate response which was met with a "Booooo. Chudley Cannons are better!"

"Blasphemy! Trip and die already!"

"Mr. Black!"

"He knows I mean that with all the good will I'm capable of. 'Sides I'm pretty sure it was a Hufflepuff, and we all know their vote hardly counts anyway."

Said section booed.

"Mr. Black, I'm warning you-"

"Come now, we all know I'm just being a bad sport because of that match. Which they TOTALLY CANNOT fault me for."

Everyone snickered.

"Truly though, doomed if you don't and DAMNED if you do."

Loud snorts and high-pitched giggling resumed.

"Mr.-"

"We may begin" Snape intoned solemnly.

And just like that all the lightheartedness vanished—replaced with a somber heaviness that made Sirius' grin falter.

Regulus sat straighter, stiffer—clearly going for composed, but there was…an edge to him somehow.

Snape ladled some potion into a vial and swept to the center of the stage beside his fellow Slytherin.

Sirius found himself staring at that vial. Not liking the grim expression Snape gave it.

He didn't know why but somehow…seeing Snape looming over his brother like that made him think of an executioner.

No. No that was ridiculous. Sirius shook his head roughly. His brother was going to be perfectly fine. Dumbledore would never allow students to actually harm each other. Nonetheless his hands fisted so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

"Mortality is inescapable. We can delay, we can delude, but we cannot defeat this irrefutable fact of our biology. It is unfair, unkind, and undiscriminating. Yet, fascinating in its absoluteness…for life is uncertain, but death is not."

A chill ran through Sirius' spine. The blasé, matter-of-fact attitude Snape sported rattled him deeply.

That dispassionate train of thought regarding death...That it was common and expected a-and…his stomach turned.

Almost as though life weren't worth the hassle of fighting for…that in the end you'd die anyway...why try?

That nothing was forever…that nothing was stronger than…

He found himself remembering his early childhood.

New Year's Eve at their Uncle Cygnus' Manor in the country—lying stretched out on chaises they had Kreacher set on the balcony. They're bundled in quilts, whispering back and forth to one another as they watch the fireworks with unabashed interest that only the very young can manage.

"_Siri?"_

"_S'matter Reggie?"_

"_Bella says stars explode too, like fireworks. That stars can die."_

"_Not us Reg. We'll be forever.__ I promise."_

"_You swear?"_

"_I swear."_

"_On your magic?"_

"_Better, on our blood!"_

Suddenly, the Great Hall seemed much too small and Sirius breathed heavily. He felt like he was sinking in the darkness. As though his body was filled with lead, and the weight was pulling him down.

An unknown anxiety was filling him and he knew intrinsically that he didn't want his brother on that stage right now. Didn't want him anywhere near the young Potion's Master.

Blatantly hearing that the sixth-year Slytherin deemed life so cheaply…What if something ever happened and Regulus NEEDED saving? Would "delaying" the so-called inevitable seem a worthy pursuit to the greasy, no-good, hook-nosed prat?

Snape moved closer to his brother. Slow, measured steps that signaled a doom of some kind…

"And as we fear and revere Lord Death, so forth we venture to emulate him and his vast dark power. I present you our success" Snape raised the vial in exaltation before handing it over to Regulus.

Madam Pomfrey waited anxiously behind the curtain, a safeguard for all the potions gone wrong. But all the mishaps she's resolved today would be trivial in comparison if this act goes wrong. She wrung her hands nervously, heart hammering.

Regulus accepted the vial fearlessly, offering the audience a handsome smile and a "Cheers" before knocking it back.

The fourth-year grimaced; Reg never had a taste for bitter things. But ignoring his gag-reflex was the easy part of this act…

Snape overturned an hourglass on a nearby stool.

Sirius watched perplexed. Most potions had an almost immediate effect. Meaning…this was an advanced one.

Polyjuice Potion perhaps? Or maybe Veritaserum? That could be interesting. Or maybe-

Regulus choked suddenly. Snape was immediately at his side, holding him steady.

Regulus grabbed his housemate's arm, fingers digging into his sleeve. His pale face went stark white as he started wheezing.

"As you can see" Snape announced coldly "the body valiantly attempts to ward off the foreign substance."

Regulus gasped and gagged and spluttered—the awful sounds echoing in the large room.

No one moved, too shocked and horrified by what looked very much like poisoning—what terribly like-like-

He jerked and twisted and coughed—body spasming violently as Snape lowered him to the stone floor.

"But there is no hope. The toxin wins-"

Regulus sucked in a terrible, painful breath, and then stilled…

"**_Always_**"

Snape placed his wand over Regulus' heart magnifying the sound.

_Thum-thump, thum-thump…...thump….…thum...….…..._

Silence…silence so deafening you swear your ears bleed…

Body limp…eyes glassy…staring vacantly up at the ceiling…

No one moves…no one speaks…no one wants to believe…

Snape nodded succinctly, faced the audience and announced:

"Behold, the Drought of Living Death!"

* * *

R & R please! ^-^


End file.
